Black and White
by Music.Junkie98
Summary: How do you deal with the death of your mother? Schizophrenia? Your psychopathic father throwing every criminal in Gotham at you to keep you 'quiet? You can't. It's too much to deal with on your own. Bruce/OC
1. Chapter 1: Symphony No 25

**I do not own any of the Batman characters or any of the songs mentioned as the titles. **

Chapter 1: Symphony No. 25

Caden hadn't planned on killing that night. It was one of those things that just…happened.

She glared down at the body at her feet-it disgusted her to think that two minutes ago, this man was still alive, squirming like the worm he was. He had the face of a killer-cruel, worn, and emotionless. He was physically imposing but relied on a gun to do all his work. His hair was as greasy as his body. He had only just enough intelligence to kill discreetly, which was not a hard task.

They were all the same. She felt no regret in ending his pathetic life.

She kicked the body, hoping he felt the pain even in the afterlife, and walked down the street. Normal women would be afraid of walking down an abandoned road in the not-so-nice part of Gotham, where sirens, gunshots, screams, and dark laughter became a grotesque music. Even though Caden was far from 'normal,' she was just as scared as anyone else would be, but she was...in a special mood that night. That mood could best be summed up by saying that anyone that even tried to fuck with her would be sorry. She wasn't exceptionally strong-just exceptionally pissed, and that alone gave her enough courage to walk the streets of Gotham as well as the streets of hell. At times, they were one and the same.

"_True courage isn't doing something and not being afraid," _her mother would say to her. _"It's doing something even though you're afraid." _

Caden's jaw clenched. Every time she went over that phrase, the desire to kill would wash over her once more.

She took a deep breath, and continued walking. It would take her about 15 minutes to get back to her apartment, and 15 minutes alone with her mind could very well drive her mad. She let herself focus on the chaotic city around her inside of the tempest brewing in her mind.

The walk took too long. Even though she didn't live that far away, it was still too long. Too long alone.

She knew they would find the body soon. She took extra care to not leave any evidence-even if she did, she could pull some strings. Her brother was a forensic scientist and did not bind himself to any set of morals. She didn't believe in rules. Neither did the rest of her family.

Hell, if she had too, she'd get her brother to delete her from the system. It might prove troublesome once this was behind her, but at times Caden worried she would never be done with _this. _

How long had she been doing this? Roughly…7 weeks, give or take a few days. In that time, she had slaughtered some of the under-dogs of the mob…nothing they would want revenge over, and nothing anyone should, could, or would care about. They were just low-lives who concerned themselves only with money. Although the allure of criminal life had called to Caden-especially recently-she avoided true crime (you know, besides killing about 12 people) only because the criminals in this town were all scum. It was all about the money. Money is useless in the end.

Caden walked into her apartment, making sure to lock the door behind her, and laid down on her bed. She couldn't feel it's smoothness under her clothes-she wore a thick hoodie and black jeans. Not the best costume, at least not compared to the so-called "super-villains" of Gotham…there was a scarecrow, two clowns, a guy clad in question marks…

"Welcome to Gotham, home of the crazies, how may I take your order?" Caden said aloud. She chuckled. She had a strange sense of humor but she hardly got to laugh anymore. She needed to savor it while she could.

She removed the stuffy hoodie and traded the heavy black jeans for shorts. She, Caden the mobster-killer, was sitting on her bed, clutching a pillow to her chest while wearing a tank-top and shorts with Spongebob on them. Maybe that's why she got away with it. No one could suspect her.

It would have been perfect if she had fluffy blond hair and blue eyes-but, alas, she had dark brown hair instead. She did have blue eyes, but they were far from innocent. She had grown pale from her hours spent inside-sleeping mostly. Her "missions" often took up most of her night. She glanced at the clock-3:30 in the morning.

"Lovely." She groaned. She got out of bed, stomach rumbling, to find something to eat before going to sleep. Her eyelids begged to close as she heated up a piece of pizza, courtesy of her friend Jill who, thinking that Caden was lonely, came over with a box of pizza and a romantic comedy earlier. It was nice to see a friend-Jill was the one person who stood by her through middle-school and high-school. They were now out of college, in their late 20's and early 30's, and were still close friends.

And Caden was still wearing god-damn Spongebob shorts. Maybe that's why they're still friends-Caden, in her adult life, never put down the thoughts of a younger person. She saw them as equal, unlike many of the other adults. It still felt weird to call herself an adult…she still felt like a teenager, conflicted and moody as always. Damn, she wanted to be a kid again.

She quickly devoured the pizza, not even sure what kind it was, washed it down with a glass of water, and went to bed. Thankfully, she slept deeply and blissfully dreamless.

She awoke the next morning still tired. She groaned. Monday.

The alarm clock screamed at her, taunting her with the glowing red numbers that read "6:00." Oh, how she _wished _she was a kid again.

She worked a relatively easy job. She had little stress, but it still kept her from sleeping. She was a waitress at a small café that only served breakfast and lunch. At least she got the nights to herself. She had always wanted to become a composer, or at least join a symphony, but those dreams were shattered quite a while ago. She wasn't even sure _where _her clarinet OR her bassoon was.

She quickly got ready, chugging coffee filled with ice as best she could (and it was not very fun) and ran out the door. Her shoulder-length hair was already messed up. Oh well. The only thing she could possibly fix were the bangs-besides that, her hair was mainly straight and normal. No beautiful riglet curls or waves. Who cares?

She rushed to the café down the street, and allowed work to consume her thoughts.

The work day could not end fast enough. She returned home at around 4-she stayed behind to help clean up, but that was all she planned on doing.

Her life had fallen into this routine-get up, work, come home. She had friends and did things with them often and had a boyfriend or two, but something would happen and they would leave. Besides, Caden had never needed a man. Maybe because her mother didn't have one.

Or need one.

Caden shrugged, and turned on the TV. And, there it was, like a reminder, as the report of the dead mobster.

"Although some police believe the murders are connected, it is assumed that this is just one more case of senseless violence."

"As if you know anything about 'senseless violence'." Caden said as she turned off the TV. That was all she wanted to see of that thing. She was never one to sit and watch televison for hours on end. She was too restless.

With a loud sigh and her legs streched causally over the edge, she spread out in the armchair, comfortable and tired. Without even thinking about it, she fell into a fragile nap.

* * *

><p>"<em>Please…I-I haven't seen him in 18 years!" The voice seemed to come from nowhere at first, like a shark jumping out of black water. All that was there was her mother's voice, desperate and high, in the darkness. <em>

"_You expect us to believe that?" Color and shape started to fade in. The liquid darkness slowly took form, moprhing slowly into a tan room. Shapes came slowly, forming furniture. Once the painting was completed, her mother and two thugs were depicted. Her mother, eyes crackling like lightning with fear, sat on her knees on the tawny carpet. The two thugs stood over her, one lean and lanky and the other stout but muscled. It reminded her of a T-Rex and an Ankylosaurus_._ The chuckle from the Ankylosaurus was the thunder to her mother's firebolt. "We have sources that say he came here for money a week ago." _

"_No he didn't!" Mother hissed, her rage spiking. She was just a non-poisonous snake lunging-scary, but harmless."God damn it, he didn't! He wasn't here!" The crack of a slap filled the room, a sound Caden had learned to know. In Caden's childhood, it was a sound more often felt. Her brother was the one who heard it and never did anything to stop it. However, she was 29 now and her brother was too (as well as not even there.) Since her "father" wasn't "disciplining" them, it had to be her mother getting slapped, not giving the slap. This went through her mind in an instant when she was lying in her bed, awakened not by screaming but by the sound of flesh hitting flesh. _

_ She, without caring she was in pajamas, marched into the front room with the courage of a lion. She wished she was a lion at that moment so she could simply eat the thugs. Wouldn't that make all life easier? _

"_Leave her alone!" She commanded. She was probably an interesting sight; a 29-year-old woman in Dr. Pepper PJ's with wild, knotted hair and bare feet. Despite that, they immediately aimed their guns towards her. Caden didn't falter. _

"_Sorry, sweetheart, boss's orders." The T-Rex shrugged. _

"_I don't give a damn. Get that gun away from my mother." Her threats were empty-she couldn't fight off a pissed-off chihuahua, and she had definately tried when that occured, but if these thugs were as dumb as they looked, maybe, just maybe they would get spooked. _

"_Would love to, but…" he pondered it for a moment. "Don't think I can. Now tell us where he is. He owes us." _

"_I don't know where he is! I'm not his wife-it isn't my job to keep up with him." Ankylosaurus had the gun on her head in a second. Probably not the only thing he does fast. _

"_You've got a mouth on you. I would suggest you __**not**__ use it." he growled. _

"_You're asking me questions I couldn't know the answer to! Look, if you just leave, I'll keep you updated on anything that happens-I want him dead as bad as you do." _

"_And if you just tell us the truth, we'll never speak to you again." _

"_I've told you the truth! Now get the hell out of my house!" She yelled. _

"_Well, if you won't tell us…" the T-Rex sighed. He glanced over to his friend. "Keep her back." He said, tilting his head in my direction. _

"…_no…" Caden was barely able to choke out. The man was on top of her in a moment, slamming her to the ground and pinning her arms back. Caden kicked into overdrive. _

"_NO!" she screamed at the top of her legs, kicking and thrashing. She clamped her teeth down on the man's arm. He howled in pain._

"_Bitch!" he shouted, punching Caden right in the face. She cried out. _

"_MOTHER!" she yelled past the pain. _

"_Get the hell off of her! Step away from my daughter! Get away fro-," the gunshot seemed to shake the room. Caden burst into tears, screaming and begging. _

"_**Get off of me! Get the hell off me!" **__the words were clouded with sobs. _

"_Shut up!" he roared. _

_The room then exploded as glass flew everywhere._

* * *

><p>Caden whimpered. She bolted upright so fast she fell out of the chair face-first. After catching her breath, she began to laugh uncontrolablly. That was definitely a first.<p>

And then she remembered her dream. She couldn't stop the memories from returning.

* * *

><p>"<em>Shit!" they hissed. After a few gunshots, all Caden heard was the rapid beating of her heart and the pounding of fists. She didn't care-the man was off of her and she scrambled over to her mother. She laid, limp as a rag doll, on the floor, blood pouring out of a small hole in her head. Caden hugged her dead mother to her chest, shifting between sorrowful and angry. All she could do was gasp in shock and try to formulate words. <em>

_ She then remembered the two mob members in her house. She jumped, and looked up. The two men were on the ground, unconscious, and the last thing she saw the flash of a cape. "Wait! Come back!" Caden screamed, jumping off the ground and running towards the hole in the glass-whoever he was came in through the windows._

"_Wait!" she screamed one last time, but whoever it was had disappeared. She sighed. "I don't know who you are…but thank you." She allowed one single tear to slip down her cheek, and she promised it would be the last she would shed that night before picking up the phone in the kitchen and calling 9-1-1._

Tears welled in Caden's eyes. "Damn it…not again." She sighed.

Now…now she couldn't stop herself.

She went into her room, tied her hair back, and pulled on the black hoodie and jeans. She grabbed her knife and tucked it inside the hoodie pocket, and slunk out the front door.

She didn't think when she did this…the most she thought of was who she was going to kill. She knew all that were involved with her Mother's death…and her Father's life. She also learned the names of the two men who killed her mother. Lawrence Frost (The T-Rex) and Thomas Wells. Apparently, Batman needed to brush up on his knocking-out skills that night. Two minutes later, when she was in the other room calling 9-1-1 , then men had woken up and crawled away. They were now with her Father. She just needed to find out where her Father was.

She had almost killed everyone involved with her Father-she had sources, which she found shortly after her Mother's death. Anyone who did "business" with her Father would be dead. She had talked to her "contact" and knew who to target-a new-comer named Jacob. Her Father was his "mentor."

"Well, Jacob…you shouldn't have looked up to my Father…now, he'll look down on your corpse…" she chuckled darkly. He would be leaving a bar on the street corner like he did almost every night, and he always took a route down an ally to get home.

Caden went to the ally, mind completely set on murder. Her instincts grew sharper and clearer-she noticed every movement and every sound. She smiled as she hid in a dark corner and waited.

As the minutes ticked by, she observed the ally. It was long, reaching a set of apartments on the other side of the street-and was especially dark by now. It was now 11 at night. The other criminals and law-breakers had started to leave their lairs and hunted the streets like wolves. The ally was dusty and the air smelled foul. The stars and moon were blocked out by lights, but it was exceptionally dark tonight. Caden smiled evilly. It was the perfect setting for murder.

She waited, the minutes lasting only seconds, held her breath, anticipated the man coming out of bar, and, oh _God, _she couldn't wait to sink that blade into his skin…she'd tell him why she was killing him, why he was to die, and make him accept it…

She held her breath as she heard footsteps coming. She grabbed her knife, muscles tense and ready to spring. She would make him pay and every single person that harmed her Mother or would ever harm anyone like that...

He had walked past her without noticing. Oh, yes, yes, yes! Slowly, carefully, she stalked behind him, leaving the shadows, creeping up behind the man. She was a lioness in the Savannah. Anxiety, alert, and excitement formed a dangerous mixture. If he turned around, it'd be all over, but that's where the fun came from…

She waited for the right moment, until he released a long, deep exhale, and, with hands moving like lightning strikes, she clamped her hand over his mouth and the other around his torso, using all of her strength to keep him in her grasp. She wasn't as strong as he was, but she had shock on her side and that was all she needed.

She was about to slice the knife across his neck when she was pulled down from behind, and thrown to the ground.

* * *

><p><strong>At the end of every chapter, I'll explain why I chose the certain song. I chose Mozart's Symphony No. 25 for this chapter because when I first heard it, I envisioned a man pacing in his room by candlelight, lost in his thoughts. The piece sings of inner turmoil, which I think is heavy in this chapter. <strong>


	2. Chapter 2: Dance of the Knights

Chapter 2: Dance of the Knights

Caden couldn't breathe for a second-but that second was only that-one second. Not long enough for her attacker to pounce. She rolled out of the way, still in the process of catching her breath, and searched for the knife she had dropped.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit…" she whispered under her breath. If the man had a gun, she would be dead in a millisecond. She didn't know why she wasn't dead already.

She saw the glint of her knife and reached for it. As she did, A large foot stomped down on it. "Shit!" she hissed. She looked up to see a man towering above her a black suit and mask, a cape whispering on the ground behind him.

Caden was speechless. This was her 2nd meeting with Batman-the first had been when her mother was killed. She didn't know who it was at the time, but afterward she had put two-and-two together. There, she had been a victim, and in danger. Now, he was there to stop her from attacking an "innocent" person. Fate sure has a sense of humor.

Without even a word, his fist collided with her head. After having the wind knocked out of her and seeing double for a moment, he spotted her weakness, and lifted her off the ground by her collar. She was surprised at his strength, but she guessed you'd have to be to beat the shit out of enough criminals to make the news nearly every night.

She hoped he would recongize her-it would give her ground to stand on. If he didn't, she was fucked. He would show no mercy to a criminal-and that's what she was now, wasn't it? In his eyes, she was attacking a random, innocent man and that made her a criminal. Even though in her eyes she was ridding the streets of monstorcitys, he saw only in black-and-white. There was no room for gray.

"I'm sure we can talk this out…" Caden pleaded as he slammed her against the wall. She groaned in pain. He signaled for the man to run. "What the hell are you doing? You just let that scum get away!"

"The only scum I see is right in front of me." The scraches he added to his voice made Caden shiver. It rubbed against her ear painfully, like sandpaper.

"Look, if you just let me explain…" she begged.

"What's there to explain?" he asked rhetorically, letting her slide to the ground but binding her hands in front of her with bat-shaped cuffs beforehand. She growled. That man should be in hand-cuffs right now, not her! The men who killed her mother should be rotting in County, instead of hiding in some foreign country. Caden, of course, figured out their location about a week after the incident, and had started to save up money to travel to India, where they were hiding. Once she got there, they had ran away. She had no clue where they were now, but, in the meantime, she was going to pick off their friends.

However…now, she wasn't sure that was going to be possible.

"What are you going to do with me?" she demanded. He ignored her and touched his ear instead.

"Gordon, I found her." He said.

"Who's 'her'? Am I some sort of extreme menace now?" Caden asked.

"You've killed 10 people." He answered.

"If you could call those _things _people. All they cared about was money." He narrowed his eyes. "Don't tell me you didn't know they were all members of the mob."

"No one knew that."

"Well, you just let one of them get away." She hissed. "Besides, they deserve it. They've killed numerous people…" she bit her tounge to keep from screaming out to her mother. Damn it, she wouldn't let some vilgante in a bat suit know of her past. When he didn't respond, she contuined the conversation. "So, what happens to me now? I go to jail for attempted assualt?"

"No. You go to jail for murder."

"You have no proof." She said with a smile. "And how many people have you 'assualted,' Batman? Killed? I'm pretty sure if they knew who you were, you'd either be in jail or have your ass sued off."

"You're not helping your case." He growled.

"I shouldn't have to." Caden snapped. "I'm simply cleaning up the streets and avenging the death of my mother-oh…shit…" he was silent. "Yeah, my mother died! You were there when it happened! You attacked the two men who killed her, but they still got away! And no, this isn't the part where I blame you and curse your name-," Caden realized tears were starting to come from her eyes due to the re-opened wounds. "-Oh, hell. Since I'm spilling my guts, please, _please _ let me avenge the death of my mother…surely you understand that?" Shock crossed his eyes for a second, but they returned to their usual stony dark green. He then opened his mouth and said something neither of them could have expected:

"Go." He removed the hand cuffs. She stared at him in shock. Even though she begged him to let her go free, she didn't expect him to comply. Batman, the man who struck fear into the hearts of all criminals, was letting her free because of a couple of "please"s and tears.

"Go. The police will be here any second." He reminded her.

"Are you…are you serious? I…thank you. I'll find some way to thank you someday." She promised as she got off the ground and began to walk down the ally.

"You don't need to."

"But I will. I promise." She ran down the ally, still shocked, and no longer angry her prey had gotten away.

She heard the sound of sirens little more then a minute later. She was glad she had gotten out of there. She would find a way to repay Batman one day-even if it took her whole life.

"Where is she?" Jim Gordon asked.

"She got away." He answered coldly.

"She got away from you? Damn. Must be a pretty good fighter." He sighed. "Did you find out who she was? Even though she narrowly avoided you, she's bound to kill again."

"I didn't see her face. And I don't think she will." Batman said as he began to walk away.

"And if she does?" Jim retorted. He obviously disappoved of this-he knew no one could get away from Batman. He suspected Batman let her go.

"Then I'll make sure she doesn't get away." This was a promise Bruce made to himself-he secretly hoped she wouldn't kill again, however.

"Any clues to who she is?"

"No." Jim turned and looked at the crime scene once more. He wished there was anything to give him a lead-but there was nothing but dust and dirt.

"She did admit one thing though-the people she killed were all part of the mob."

"That still doesn't justify murdering them."

"It doesn't."

And, with that, Batman disappeared into the night.

He still wasn't sure why he let her go. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. He guessed it was a mixture of the fact that she was only killing criminals and that she wanted to avenge her mother's death-something Bruce had wanted to do-that drove him to let her flee. He would not hold back if she killed again, though. If it was only those two men that killed her mother, she had no right killing the others. He hoped she would get her revenge and move on with her life-and, besides, everyone had to stumble through the darkness before finding light.


	3. Chapter 3: Danse Macabre

Chapter 3: Danse Macabre

Caden arrived home, tired and useless. She had never ran so fast in her life-her legs felt like jelly. They would be sore in the morning.

She walked to her bed, pulled off her hoodie, flung it to the other side of the room, and let her head hang between her legs. She thought she had dealt with the death of her mother, but she obviously she hadn't. She burst into tears in front of fuckin' _Batman. _

She groaned, changed into a more comfortable outfit, and got a glass of water. It was 1 in the morning. Damn, she had to stop having these late nights. She grabbed two Advil, chugged the rest of the water, and slunk into bed.

The smoothness of the pillow and blankets left her breathless. She almost moaned at the relief. Sleep called to her like a beacon. She shuffled into a comfortable position and fell asleep.

She awoke a few hours later, groggy and confused. "Damn…" she muttered, throat sore, at the darkness of her room. She knew it was nighttime, but it had never gotten that dark in her room before…it was so black she couldn't even see the rough outline of shapes. Hell, she couldn't even she the bed below her. It was like she was just floating in darkness.

Then she realized she _was.  
><em>She screamed in fear. There was nothing to hold on to-it was just ending blackness and void. Nothing was solid. She could fall at any second and have nothing to grab on to. The feeling of being absolutely helpless terrified her. Her body and her mind were the only things she knew was real.

"_Caaadenn…" _a voice groaned from the void. Her heart nearly jumped out of her mouth. She couldn't get away-there was nothing to escape to. The feeling of entrapment was awkward in the wide, open area, but it was the realest thing she had ever felt. Fear was the rawest, most powerful emotion, and was as sharp as a blade in this blurry world.

"_Come here, Caaaadenn…" _the voice cooed.

"No…" she whimpered. She had never sounded or felt so helpless in her life.

"Now, now…do as Mommy says…"

"What?" she groaned. "Oh…no, no, no, no, no…" she repeated it over and over again, the word coming out of her mouth slurred and messy. She was trying to move, trying to run away, but not matter what she did, she didn't move-there was nothing to move _to. _

"_You wouldn't want to disappoint Mommy, would you?" _Oh, God, the voice sounded exactly like Mother's now-soft and light, but carried a tone of danger and death. It hurt to hear her dead Mother's voice again, made her cry even. The tears would have blocked her vision but there was nothing to see.

"_Come here…__**now, Caden!" **_The voice commanded.

"I…I can't!" she pleaded, her voice polluted with fear and sobs. Not only could she not move-to see her Mother again when she knew she was dead would kill her. It was destroy her brain, split it in half. She couldn't mentally take it. She would break in two, shatter just like glass.

"_Fine then. I'll come to you." _

"No, don't!" Caden screamed, begging. _Please, Oh God, don't come, don't make me see my dead mother-if there's anybody, anything out there that is good and pure, don't let me see this, please, God, please… _

"_There you are!" _The voice changed. It was almost mechanical and distorted. It reminded her of the swish of wings as a flock of birds took off.

Caden had never shrieked so loud in her life. Standing in front of her, with decayed flesh filled with wriggling white worms, sagging and falling off in clumps, was her dead mother.

Her teeth were blackened and her eyes sunken-bones showed at random points in her body. Her black lips were twisted into horrific grin. The stench of death and rot filled Caden's nose. She couldn't stop screaming.

"Come here now…give Mommy a kiss…"

Caden went insane. Her mother clamped her skeletal hands around Caden's shoulders. She was shrieking, screaming, begging, sobbing, crying, yelling, shouting, kicking…she had never given up such a fight. Anything to keep those rotted lips away from her; anything to keep her squishy hands off of her…she would do _anything _just to get away.

The fact that this was her mother made it even worse-the woman who, through-out her life, was always on her mind, who had been suddenly banished and erased, was standing right in front of her, dead, decaying, and rotting…it was just too much to handle. She could feel the splitting of her mind, the breaking of her sanity.

It was too much.

She was screaming her throat raw now. She squeezed her eyes shut, struggling and fighting like no one even had before. Every single emotion-hatred, fear, disgust, sadness, shock, you name it-was shown, bared like fangs. Never had anyone fought that hard-never.

"_Stop…please, stop…" _ It was a different voice. Not her mother's, but she didn't care. She kept kicking and thrashing and shrieking. "Please, Ms. Smitheart." The voice had lost it demonic quality, but the darkness still swam in front of Caden's eyes. Her dead mother had disappeared, but the void was still swimming around her, and that alone terrified her. "Caden!" the voice yelled.

Caden gasped when color came back. A man was standing over her, shaking her as she screamed. "Oh…oh my God…" she sighed. The man smiled. He backed away, but Caden's sight was filled with another her-Jill's.

"Oh, Caden! I was so scared!" she cried out as she hugged her friend. Her long blond hair tickled Caden. Her large, green eyes were filled to the brim with terror. "I-I heard screaming so I called the police…I came over to make sure you were ok, but you were just sitting here _shrieking _and…and _thrashing…" _

"I…I'm fine Jill." Caden said, still breathless. "I think it was a bad dream…a _really _bad dream."

"I don't think it was a dream…your eyes were open, like you were seeing things that weren't there…" she bit her lip after she said this.

"Like…hallucinating?" Caden's voice suddenly grew weaker.

"Well…none of us are 100% sane, are we?" Jill asked. Caden forced a laugh.

"I guess you're right. Maybe this is just a one-time thing…stress, maybe?"

"Yeah…"

"So everyone's alright?" the police officer said.

"Yes." Caden replied.

"Ok then." The police was obviously disturbed by what happened, and slunk away quickly.

"I'll stay with you for the rest of the night." Jill said, sitting down on the bed.

"You don't have to do that, Jill." Caden smiled.

"Yes, I do. We can have a sleepover, just like we did nearly every weekend in school." She insisted nostalgically.

"Yay! I'll get the scary movies and popcorn!" Caden grinned, leaping out of bed. Strangely, she wasn't tired. Maybe hallucinated was a good way to get decent sleep.

Caden popped some popcorn, grabbing a few horror movies off the shelf, and sat down on her bed with Jill.

"Just like old times." She beamed as she pressed 'play.'

Caden sighed. It may feel like it right now, sitting in her room with a bowl of buttery popcorn and a slasher flick, but after tonight, nothing would ever, could ever, be the same. Caden was a murdered, and now, she was having hallucinations. This could only be the beginning of worse events.

* * *

><p>Over the course of 3 months, many things happened.<p>

About two days after her hallucination, when she was left with two complete days of resting from her job, she was struck with severe paranoia. She kept thinking that Batman was sitting there waiting to hand-cuff her again, or Jill would step out of the shadows and yell at her for killing. Every time a siren rang, she was grab a knife and hide, even though she couldn't deflect bullets with a kitchen knife.

This continued for roughly a month. The hallucinations had returned, but not near as extreme-the screams weren't loud enough to alert any people, but they still terrified and haunted Caden day and night. It happened sometimes at work-she struggled against it constantly, trying to ignore it or get rid of it, but it was always right there in front of her.

Caden fought against it every moment of her life. Every night, she would lie awake in bed, crying because her mind was slipping away and she had no control. Those were the moments she felt the most sane, but they didn't come often-after the 2 month mark, she had completely lost it. It was like slipping off the edge of a cliff after holding on for far too long.

Paranoia stalked her-she constantly felt as if someone knew of her killings, and that someone was coming for her. The hallucinations now contained her dead mother, er victims, and the police. One night, she snapped out of a hallucination to find herself stabbing at a chair.

After three more weeks of that, she was fired…after having an extremely bad hallucination at work. All of her dead victims had rose and were attacking _her_; she almost killed a customer in her fight. She tried searching for a job in the following two weeks, but no one would take her in her state.

She scrimped and pinched for food, but eventually she was evicted for not paying rent-even though she tried to explain her situation, her rude landlord would hear none of it. She was out on the streets and had no family to stay with.

By now, she was completely insane-and sick. She was strangely pale, weak, and fatigued. The most she remembered was crawling around on the streets, dizzy and nauseous, struggling to move. She remembered passing out, and waking up in a hospital with bright lights shining on her face.


	4. Chapter 4: A Faust Overture

Chapter 4: A Faust Overture

Caden released a long groan as the bright lights attacked her eyes. Everything was too white, like sun reflected off sand in a blistering desert. Her mouth felt dry as the Sahara. Her throat stung as if it had been scraped with bits of rock.

She then realized she was in a bed-which was good, considering she was homeless. It wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, but a bed was a bed.

Wait…bright, white lights…uncomfortable bed…

Oh no.

"Where am I?" Caden mumbled, knowing fully well where she was.

"You're at Gotham General Hospital." A masculine voice said. Hm. Male nurse. That's a first, at least for her.

When she opened her eyes, she saw that he wasn't a male nurse-he was sitting in the chair next to her bed. He wore what looked like a designer suit, with slicked back dark brown hair, and faintly familiar dark green eyes. She knew who this was-Bruce Wayne, one of the most, if the the most powerful and rich person in Gotham. She had seen his face from time to time. Why the Hell was he here, in the presence of a recently-homeless woman in the hospital?

"I…what happened?" she murmured.

"I found you stumbling around Gotham, near dead. You passed out and I brought you here." He explained.

"What were you doing in that part of Gotham?" he opened his mouth to answer, but Caden stopped him. "Never mind. I shouldn't ask questions. Thank you, Mr. Wayne. If it was serious enough to take me to the hospital, then I could have died from it." She sat up, stretching. "Oh, God…" she said to herself, hoping Bruce wouldn't hear her. "I guess everything went to Hell, Caden. Good job." She was horribly disappointed in herself. Who cared if her dead mother followed her everywhere? Her mother raised her better then that!...when she was alive...

A nurse walked in, relieved she was awake. "Good morning, hun." She smiled. She was a typical nurse-pretty blond hair, sparkling eyes, an aura of caring and compassion. For just one second, one small moment, she felt a pang of jealousy-Caden was sure the nurse standing next to her looked much better then she did. She shook the thought away-what was there to be jealous of? Bruce…she chuckled in her mind. Whatever…he wouldn't go for scum like me…

"Well, dear, I have some bad news for you…" she bit her lip. "We had no clue what was wrong with you when Mr. Wayne first brought you in, but upon further exploration, we diagnosed you with Addison's disease."

"…what?" Caden asked, voice small. She had no clue what it was, but it rang with malevolence, like Parkinson's disease or Alzheimer's.

"Addison's disease. Don't worry, you won't need a wheelchair or anything." She forced a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. "But it is something you'll have forever. Addison's disease is damage to the adrenal glands, glands that secrete three types of hormones-cortisol, aldosterone, and, ah, estrogen…we suspect the damage was caused by tuberculosis, HIV, or a fungal infection. Since we found no traces of HIV, it's either tuberculosis or a fungal infection…?" she seemed to be asking a question.

"Well, I haven't had tuberculosis…probably the latter."

"Alright. The symptoms you had when you came in were paleness, extreme weakness, fatigue, slow and sluggish movement, according to Mr. Wayne, mouth lesions, and you seemed to be very nauseous. We put you on a medication-you should be better now. You'll need to take the medication for the rest of your life, but if you do, there should be no side effects." Caden's mouth was suddenly very dry and wouldn't work right. She had a disease. It was different from having a cold or even the flu-it was something she would have for the rest of her life.

"I…I guess I owe a lot to Mr. Wayne." She chuckled, looking at Bruce. "How can I repay you?"

"You don't need to." He said with a smile. Hm, where had Caden heard that before? Guess chivalry _is_ still alive.

"I'll find a way. Until then…thank you. Really." He stepped closer to her and put a slip of paper in her hand.

"Tell me when you get out of here."

"I will. Thanks again." She smiled. He returned it almost slyly, and walked out.

"Wow. Lucky…" the nurse laughed. "Saved by one of the richest men in Gotham…nice." Caden returned the laugh. "So, any other symptoms besides those mentioned earlier?"

Caden couldn't breath for a moment. This was her chance to tell someone about what had been happening to her-she could get help.

"I…no...I'm fine..." she bit her lip. "No...I know this is a problem a lot of people get but...I keep seeing my mother. She's dead." It embarrassed the Hell out of her to admit that her dead mother was stalking her. This pretty nurse wouldn't care. Everyone had problems like this!

"I see. Here-let me get the doctor." Shit…Caden thought. Lovely. She can _tell_. She'll bring all the hospital staff in here to laugh to me because I can't deal with something so stupid on my own-

Caden fell against the bed. "Wonderful…fucking wonderful." A few minutes later, a doctor walked in-this time a male one. He was unremarkable-but had a calculating gaze then sent shivers up Caden's spine.

"Hello, Caden. I'm Dr. Coffman. I hear you've been having…trouble?"

"Not really. It's just...distressing to see my dead mother everywhere. I'm sure a lot of people face this...but, I really need to get on with my life, so if...there's anything you can do to help me...?

"Hm...what exactly have you been experiencing?"

"My mother…my dead mother, always there…rotting…" Caden admitted, shivering. "And I know that they're coming for me…they're going to take me away to rot exactly like her…"

"I see." He nodded. "We'll be right back in just a second." Both him and the nurse left the room.

"Fuck…" she sighed. He's probably out there laughing right now...I'm so _stupid _for thinking they could do something...it would be like asking for a cure for the common cold...

The door burst open. But he was alone.

"Ms. Smithart, I am no psychologist, but I do believe you have a mental condition…"

"What? Oh...oh, no. Really, I'm fine...it's a common problem, but...just some medicine or treatment or...?"

"Ms. Smithart. You have schizophrenia."

"Sch-schizophrenia? Like…multiple personalities?" She raised an eyebrow. She wasn't talking to herself, so…?

"No, those are two completely different conditions. Schizophrenia is slightly different. However, we do think it would be best if you went to Arkham-you were fired from your job from assaulting a customer, correct?"

"What do I have to go to Arkham? You can treat me right here. I'm fine."

"It takes time to cure a condition like this-it isn't an easy recovery."

"What condition? I'm _fine. _Just give me some medicine like you did for the Addison's Disease..."

"Let me explain schizophrenia. There are three symptoms: hallucinations, paranoia, and delusions..."

"I'm not delusional! There's nothing wrong with me!"

"That in itself is a delusion. You say you see your dead mother...that's a hallucination."

"No it isn't! I see her all the time, every day! She's watching out for me! Like an...angel." He ignored her.

"And...you say "they" will come for you. Paranoia."

"That's because they are!"

"No, they aren't, Caden. But don't worry. The doctors at Arkham will help you."

"Fine...anything to get me out of this hospital." she curled into a ball, pulling her legs up to her chest.

"Don't worry about that-you'll be out of here quickly." Caden felt uneasy with that-was the doctor crazy too? Was everybody here crazy? ...was everybody in the _world _crazy?

Hmm...is Bruce crazy? _No...I don't think so. _

She decided to just go with it; let them take her to Arkham and "cure" her. She'd swallow pills and pretend to get better.

Soon, a lady came in with a needle and put Caden to sleep.

When she woke up, she was arriving at a large, black, cold-looking building. On the outside, there was a fake aura of happiness and security, like decorations at a Children's Hospital.

She was still slightly dazed as she was lead into the building. She stumbled as she walked and her mind was lost in a haze. She didn't speak; she couldn't get her lips to move. She only remembered pictures afterwards-pictures of black halls, armed guards, and, most vividly, people screaming and beating on the bars of their cages.

* * *

><p><strong>I chose Richard Wagner's "A Faust Overture" for it's dark tones, growing tension, and faked peace. <strong>


	5. Chapter 5: Clair De Lune

Chapter 5: Clair De Lune

Caden was in Arkham for six months.

Thankfully, Caden wasn't in a padded cell-she was in a lower security ward with other people who weren't criminals-just regular, normal crazy people.

To her surprise, two weeks after her arrival, Bruce Wayne stopped by to see her. When she asked why, he said he "wanted to make sure she was OK." This confused Caden-had she left that good of an impression? Of course, he could just be really sweet and kind, but, if so, what is he doing in Gotham? Gotham's a place of crime and blood-there's no room for knights in shining armor rescuing damsels, though Caden was far from a damsel.

He visited every now and then-she was still confused as to why, but maybe he really was just seeing if she was alright. Arkham was home to many criminals who, if given the chance, would eat Caden alive. He had heard about Aaron Cash and Killer Croc…she had no doubt whatever Killer Croc was would chomp her in half, just like Quint in Jaws.

The months passed quickly-after a few sessions with doctors and medication, she was no longer having hallucinations or having paranoia. Her delusional thought that schizophrenia was something she could deal with on her own had been abolished along with the thought that her dead mother was "watching over her." It felt good-Hell, it was amazing-to be sane again. Of course, she still wanted to avenge her mother, but there was no frustrating, constant need-if she was released, she wouldn't go out and kill again.

However, she had no clue what exactly she would do once she was released. She had no home to return to, no family-her brother, though living in Gotham, wanted nothing to do with her after she admitted she had killed people. Of course, being her brother, he said he would help her out if she got caught in the legal system, but he wanted no other contact with her. At the time, she thought him cruel and wrong-he hadn't been there, he hadn't been helpless as her as she heard her mother's screams-

_No, Caden. Stop thinking like that-remember the good parts of your life._

She sighed. The damn doctors had gotten to her.

She was going to be released today. She was secretly terrified-she would try going to Jill's first, but she really didn't want to intrude. She had a one-bedroom apartment and finance. She could try going to her brother's…

She decided Jill was a better bet. She was standing in the front office of Arkham. She grabbed on of the phones and punched in Jill's number. Hm…no answer. She left a message and dialed again. Again, no answer.

"Who are you trying to call, hun?" a woman behind a desk asked.

"A friend…I don't have anywhere else to go."

"Oh…" she nodded. "Here. Let me try. What's her number and name?" she picked up a phone.

"Her name's Jill South and her number is 407-553-6782." The woman bit her lip.

"I'm sorry, hun...but I'm afraid your friend went missing last week."

"…what?" Caden asked, dropping the phone, thankful for the cord to stop it's collision with the floor._ And what's there to stop my fall? _Caden thought as she repeated it over in her mind: Jill South, her best and closest life-long friend, was missing. For a week. Tears erupted inside her, but she bottled them, too stubborn to break down _here, _in this damned asylum.

"I…how did I not know? Oh, God…shit…" Caden sighed and let her head fall back on the concrete walls."Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"We did not know you were close to Ms. South. I'm sorry."

"No, you're not..." she sighed. "I guess I need to call my brother..."

"No need. There's someone here to pick you up." The woman smiled.

"Who…?" she turned around to see Bruce Wayne standing in the room. "My God…you always pop up just at the right time. I was about to call my brother. Are you psychic?" He chuckled.

"What would be so bad about calling your brother?"

"He doesn't want anything to do with me." She shrugged. They began to walk down the long hall out of Arkham. God, it felt good to get out of there. It wasn't a prison, but still, it was nice to finally be free of the invisible bonds placed on her.

"Why?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Long story. So, how have you been?" she said, trying to make conversation.

"Same as always…though, I suppose you aren't…"

"You saw my freak-out in there? About Jill?"

"Yes…I'm sorry." It sounded like he was devastated, like it was his fault that she was gone.

"It isn't your fault. Do you know anything, though? Really…I might be able to find out where she is, considering I've known her all her life."

"There's currently no leads." He said sadly. "But I might be able to help. I know what it's like to lose a friend."

"Really? Ouch…who was it?" Not that Caden really knew anyone that was acquaintances with Bruce Wayne-but, hey, she's some sort of friend with him, and maybe if he talked about it, he wouldn't be so sad. Caden hated it when he was sad. She enjoyed it when he was light-heated and would often joke-subtly of course-

Wait…what the fuck was she thinking? She sounded like a god damn wimp! Even though she would admit Bruce was extremely handsome, she wouldn't become a simpering school-girl over him.

"Rachel Dawes." Wow, a name she did know.

"Wasn't she Harvey Dent's-ah, never mind." She shrugged. "Let's get past this sad stuff. Anything cool happen while I was locked up?"

"Not really. Not besides other crazies running around Gotham, tormenting civilians and killing cops. The usual." He smirked. She chuckled.

"So no more hospitals exploded? No elementary schools got gunned down? No mass-chaos and hysteria?"

"It's Gotham-what do you think?" Caden laughed-not chuckled, not smirked, not snickered-she really laughed a normal laugh, the first one she had since…God knows when. She had forgotten what it felt like to laugh like that; it wasn't an attack of crazy giggles, just a genuine, normal laugh…

"I wouldn't surprised if someone raised the dead and marched through the streets on rainbow unicorns." I shrugged.

"…what kind of pills do they give you here?" he asked, mocking concern. They were silent for one moment, looked at each other, and burst into a fit of laughs.

"I'm not quite sure anymore..." Caden said between chuckles as they exited the Asylum. "Oh…oh, wow…" she stuttered under her breath as she walked outside. It was the middle of spring and the air smelled of fresh flowers. She had been outside during her stay, but behind fences, it was so much different. The feeling of freedom gave each and every little thing beauty-from the blooming flowers to the bees dancing on them.

"So, where to?" Bruce asked.

"Wha-oh, right…" Shit. "My brother's. He's the only one I can turn to. He lives on 632 Elm." She then noticed the car. Her jaw dropped. "That's your car?" She thought she would never see the day that she was standing in the same city as a Lamborghini. "Nice…" she said in shock. Every time she talked to Bruce, she tend to forget he was a billionaire-he could afford cars like those, the cars Caden always drooled over while getting 1998 Toyotas. _Holy shit…I get to ride in a fucking Lamborghini! Wait till Jill hears about-oh…_

"Come on. I promise it looks better inside." He said stepping in causally, as if he didn't have a sexy-ass car and it was something he found at a used car lot. Caden took a deep breath and opened the door, trying hard to not touch anything and ruin it's beauty with her greasy fingerprints, and sat down.

"Oh, wow…" she mumbled. It was slick, shiny, and so…high-tech. Definitely something Bruce Wayne would have. Damn, it even smelled like a new car. "Sorry, this is an overwhelming experience for me…I think the best car I've ever been in before this was Jill's 2008 Hybrid…"

"Should I have brought the motorcycle?" he asked with a smirk.

"Oh, dear God yes! I love motorcycles!" Caden was practically bouncing up and down in her seat.

"I'll remember that next time." He said, turning the car on, even though it a practically silent, and putting it in drive.

"Next time?" Caden didn't know if it meant the next time she got locked up in the Asylum and he had to come rescue her or the next time they would meet…? She actually hoped they would.

"So that means no next time? You wound me…" he smiled sarcastically.

"No, I just…wasn't expecting that." She shrugged. Well, they were 'friends,' she guessed. I mean, he'd known her for six months and, before that, he almost saved her from a life on the streets. The least she could do was call him a 'friend.' "It's…nice to know that I have someone in my corner." After a minute of awkward silence, she grew annoyed. "Oh, screw it! It's nice to know that I have a friend." He smiled softly.

"So, why exactly do you have no where to go?"

"Damn. Knew you'd ask eventually." She sighed with a smile. "Well, about three weeks before you found me, I got fired from my job because of attacking a customer…" his eyes widened for a moment. "I was having a crazy-ass hallucination. Don't worry. I don't go around killing random people." Caden thought she saw him stiffen but she dismissed it as a trick of the eye. "After that, I couldn't find anyone that would take me after what happened at the other place-besides, who would want to hire a schizophrenic? I was eventually evicted for not paying rent and was stumbling around the streets, sick as hell, trying to find Jill's, which was right next to my building…it's OK, you can laugh." He didn't. "And then you found me. Thanks again for that-really, I don't know what would have happened to me if you didn't. I might just have been one of the homeless people you see on the side of the street holding up a sign that says 'will work for food.'" she fell into silence for a moment. "It's not a pleasant feeling, being homeless. Worrying whether you'll have a place to sleep or food to eat or water to drink every single day..." she sat back in the seat, surprised a car could be that comfortable. "So, what do you do when you're not handling Wayne Enterprises?" he shrugged.

"When I was a kid, I wanted to be a detective. Although, I remember my mother telling me that one time I said I wanted to be a shark…" Caden laughed once more-she had laughed more with Bruce in 10 minutes then she had in 10 months. "I'll admit to reading crime novels."

"Hey, what's wrong with that? The shark thing, I mean. I'd prefer being a turtle, though."

"You'd rather be a turtle then a shark?" he asked, mocking shock, a grin plastered on his face.

"What? I like turtles. Baby turtles are adorable."

"And you wouldn't rather be a shark? You know, top of the food chain?"

"Eating helpless little fishies isn't at the top of my 'Want To Do' list." She admitted. It was amusing to be sitting in a Lamborghini while arguing with Bruce Wayne over sharks and turtles.

"Have fun getting _eaten _by sharks then."

She stuck out her tongue. He returned the gesture. She didn't have the time to be shocked by that. She groaned as they pulled into the driveway of her brother, David's, house. She was filled with dread-her brother certainly didn't want to see her, much less take her in, but he was her only hope-where else would she go? Jill's finance didn't like Caden enough to take her in-and it would be wrong, staying in her home while she was missing.

"Wish me luck." Caden said to Bruce. She put her hand on the handle and the nervousness overwhelmed her. "OK…1…2…3!" she forced herself to open the door, and crawled out. Making herself take long, deep breaths, she walking to her brother's home. Her brother had a far better home then she did-a pretty, perfect house in the suburbs, beautifully decorated by his stay-at-home wife and enjoyed by his two kids. He had the ideal life, something Caden always despised. How anyone could be happy in this bland, generic, glided cage, she didn't know.

She knocked on the door, conflicting between hoping he'd answer and praying he didn't.

Her heart jumped out of her chest when a pretty blond-haired woman answered the door. Her eyes narrowed-probably because of the familiarity. Caden did look a lot like her brother-who was actually her fraternal twin-but she had never met his wife.

"Hello, Ms. Smithart…I'm Caden…David's sister?"

"Really? I don't believe we have met." Strangely, her tone contained no contempt-maybe David didn't tell her about her. Maybe she still had a chance.

"No, I don't think we have." She held out her hand to shake it-shockingly, she did, but only out of politeness. "Is David home?"

"Yes. I'll go get him. Please, come in." Shit, I wish she hadn't said that…Caden walked in the house, immediately assaulted by the miasma of chemical vanilla, and looked around the room. Matching couches and arm-chairs, glass coffee tables, and a flat-screen TV gave the living room a look of fake luxury. Caden preferred her comfortable recliner at home, situated in front of her old, out-of-date TV. She faintly heard someone calling for her brother.

"Your sister is here!"

"…what?" David hissed, walking down the stairs. Caden bit her lip, and forced out:

"Hi, David." She said causally, waving.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "Why don't you go check on the kids, Cassandra?" he asked his wife.

"Alright…" she said tentatively. David sighed.

"What do you want? Need me to clear you of charges?" he gave her an evil glare as he said so.

"Actually, I've been locked up at Arkham for the past 6 months." She admitted, weary of baring her soul to him.

"I always knew you were crazy. What do you need? Money?"

"No, actually I need a place to stay until I get a job."

"Why don't you just stay with Jill? Oh, wait, she's missing, isn't she? She always _was _pretty dumb..." Caden's hands balled into fists-he was playing her now. He had always been manipulative. He knew which buttons to push to drive her mad-if she got angry, he could make himself look the victim and Caden would have to leave. She wouldn't let him get to her like he did the last time, and all the years before.

"Please, David…I'm your sister. I promise not to be here that long, but-,"

"Wait. Wait, wait, wait." He stopped her, and began stalking closer to her. "After you go off the deep end, you expect me to help you?" he was slowly forcing her backwards towards the door. "No. You know what? Fix your own God damn problems…deal with your crazy need for revenge and whatever mental condition you have on your own. Stop bringing people into your issues for once!" He had her backed against the door, now. She wasn't scared he would hurt her-he was her brother, for God's sake, but that didn't mean she wanted him screaming false accusations in her ear. She opened her mouth to respond, but he interrupted. "And don't give me any of that 'you weren't there!' bullshit! She was my mother too! You think I didn't cry? You think I didn't want to kill those men?" His jaw clenched and he turned away from her. "I did, but I didn't go out and actually do it. You need to handle that problem before I let you anywhere near my family." He pivoted and opened the door behind her abruptly, and she fell back against the concrete. She hissed. He froze when he saw the car. "Oh, so you have a damn Lamborghini and you need my help!"

"It isn't mine-it's a…friend's." she said, sounding too quiet for her liking.

"Then why don't you stay with him?" he asked. Hm…why hadn't she thought of that? Caden didn't think Bruce that good enough of a friend to stay with, even though they had known each other for six months; he had done enough for her already, but he did have a mansion, didn't he? She would feel bad asking him for more help, but what other option did she have?

Bruce then stepped out of the car. Well, someone up there loves me-my prayers have been answered!

"Oh, and it's Bruce Wayne!" David threw his hands into the air. "Did you do this just to embarrass me?"

"No, David, I really just wanted to stay with you…"

"Bullshit! Leave and don't come near my family again." Caden felt the sting of tears just for one second, surging upwards from her bottled sorrow from Jill like vomit, but she pushed them away. She only felt anger as he slammed the door.

_Oh…fuck._ How did she end up on the ground with skinned hands after hardly saying a word to her brother?

She only got angrier when she heard the click of a lock. She wanted to burn this house down-she wanted to get rid of David and his every possession. She wanted to end his life and destroy everything he ever loved.

Before her thoughts could progress, Bruce was by her side-kneeling on the ground without care for his pretty suit.

"You alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine." She groaned as she sat up.

"Well…he seems real nice."

"I grew up with him and he still wants nothing to do with me." She sighed as she brushed dust off her pants."Well, there goes my only chance."

"Stay with me for a while." He offered as they got back in the car.

"You would do that for me?" she said happily, sighing in relief. "You've done so much for me already…"

"It's no big deal, really." He said modestly. "If I knew how he was going to react, I wouldn't have even let you come here."

"Oh, so now you're my protector?" She didn't add any negative connotation-it was actually an attempt at humor, but got a serious response.

"Am I not?"

"I guess you are…you've done a lot for me. More then anyone ever has…besides Jill and my mother."

"Well, maybe someone should have warmed up to you-they're missing a lot." Caden blushed, and they continued chit-chatted like normal, like two life-long friends would.

* * *

><p>Later, Caden was sitting on the bed of (one of) the guest rooms in Wayne Manor, wearing silk pajamas (who knew Bruce would also have women's clothing…?) and snuggled in the most comfortable bed she had ever been in.<p>

She had been stunned at the beauty of Wayne Manor-everything sparkled and reflected. Of course, it did have that perfect imperfection that some large, pristine houses had, but with Bruce in it, it had a certain soul and feel that some large "homes" lacked…Caden struggled to find the right word…personality.

She met Alfred-who was actually really cool, something she didn't expect from an old butler and gone on a tour of Wayne Manor. While Bruce had to go off and do some business-y thing, Caden let herself relax in one of Bruce's remarkably cozy chairs and watch TV. An hour or two before Bruce finished, she helped Alfred in the kitchen, something that both surprised and delighted him. They talked quietly as they cook dinner. They even played music-classical music, which Caden had liked since birth, something that surprised Alfred.

Bruce finally finished with whatever business stuff he had to do. They ate dinner together,laughing while they did so. Caden was happy she had found another person to laugh and joke with, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that she had to repress…it was the need to cry. She had held it in until that moment, sitting in her bed late at night with the lights off. She hugged a pillow to her chest, and let herself cry.

She cried for Jill, her life-long, best, closest, most amazing friend ever, who was missing.

She cried for her dead mother, who, even though it had been a little over 10 months since her death, seemed to constantly taunt her and remind her that the woman that raised her and loved her unconditionally was gone.

She cried about her brother, who cruelly rejected her, despite knowing her possibly better then she knew herself.

But she could not-would not-cry about herself or her ruined life. Her tears were an insincere showing of sorrow; the only way she could truly show how terrible she felt was to act, and that was something she could no longer do.


	6. Chapter 6: The Swan

Chapter 6: The Swan

"I found a job today, Bruce." Caden announced on Thursday, which marked her first full week living with Bruce. It was early in the morning-6:30. Caden had to admit it was fun to watch him stumble towards the coffee maker in the morning, just like everyone else did. They both drank coffee in the kitchen, still slightly dazed by the morning fog. "I'm still surprised they took me…after what happened at my old job, no one would want me working at their workplace. Hell, I wouldn't even want to be around me." The devilish look on Bruce's face told all. "You pulled some strings, didn't you?"

"It isn't hard when you're the owner of Wayne Enterprises."

"Wow...I promise when I am not debilitated by this damn morning…handicap, I am giving you the deadliest bear hug you've ever received in your life." She said it like a threat-Jill had grown terrified of them.

And now Caden was sad. There was still nothing found on Jill.

But, Caden kept her promise. After she swallowed the last bit of coffee, she gave Bruce an extremely tight bear hug. Most of the time, when she gave these, people would cringe in pain, but he only accepted it and hugged right back. Despite her effort to restrain it, she giggled when he returned the tight squeeze.

She didn't want to pull away, but she had a job interview soon-this time at a book publishing company, something that filled Caden with glee. She loved books-if she couldn't write them, she would help others get their books out in the world.

"Sorry to break this lovely embrace, but I have a job interview." She said as she pulled away. She sped off to her room to get dressed (she only now realized that she had hugged Bruce Wayne in Dr. Pepper pajamas) and do her hair and make-up. Most of the time, Caden didn't wear any make-up besides lipstick, but, hey, it was a job interview…maybe the interviewer is a guy and she could charm her way to success.

Caden laughed to herself. Not that she was ugly or anything, but she wasn't every man's dream. She wasn't exactly a size zero, but, at the same time, no one could call her "fat." She never really troubled herself with that though-to her, it was a choice between having bulimia or the last slice of chocolate cake. Which sounded better?

In the end, she was wearing a pencil skirt and a blazer. She refused to put her hair up, however. The only time she have ever put her hair up was at a band concert and she was doing a clarinet solo…damn, she missed playing that thing. She still had hers-the same one she got in 6th grade-but she never had any music to play.

"Not anymore." She said to herself. She would pick up a book of sheet music on her way home and she would play something, damn it. "Alright, Bruce-y. The moment of truth. How do I look?" she asked, twirling in a circle.

"Perfect." He smiled. Caden blushed-no one had ever said she looked 'perfect' besides her mother and Jill. "You want me to drive you?"

"Don't trust me in your beautiful cars?" she chuckled. "I wouldn't either."

"Maybe you'll get lonely. Besides, I don't have anything to do today."

"Come if you want. It'll be really boring though."

This was Caden's 4th time riding in the Lamborghini and it still made her giddy. "How do you keep this car so shiny?" she asked as they pulled out of the driveway.

"Magic." He smirked.

"…I knew it. You hire magical little fairies to do all your work. There's no way Alfred could take care of Wayne Manor all by himself."

"…what?" he asked, laughing.

"Tsk, tsk. Taking advantage of poor little fairy immigrants. Let me guess-minimum wage?" It was hard to remain serious while saying this, but Caden managed it.

"You're right. I'll go apologize to the fairies and give them all the money they desire. I'll turn around and do it right now." He pretended like he was going to turn around.

"No!" she groaned. "Please? I'll be a good girl and never talk about the fairies again."

He smiled and stayed on course.

They flipped through the radio stations, joked, and laughed until they reached the building.

"Wish me luck!" she said as she left. The last time she said that, she received none, but that was because her brother was total dick head.

She took a deep breath, and entered the building.

* * *

><p>She came out with a tired expression on her face.<p>

"Dear God, that was torture!" she sighed as she sat in the car. "I think I did a good job though." The interviewer was a man-luckily. She smiled and pulled her shirt down a little. It worked wonders. She hated it when she had to degrade herself to girlish tricks, but she needed this job. She couldn't sponge off of Wayne forever.

Sadly, it was about 10 now-she had been in there for two hours. She cursed herself for not getting breakfast.

"So, back to the fortress? I kind of want to stop by a music store and get some music…I haven't played my clarinet in too long."

"Sure. I didn't know you played."

"I haven't played in a while-I got it out a few times before I flew off the handle, but I haven't played it since."

They stopped a music store a few minutes later-Bruce came in with her, which of course stirred some notice, but she already knew where to find the clarinet music. She found a book of Mozart, paid for it, and quickly left before more attention could arise.

"So, that's what billionaire life is like? Hardly being able to step out the front door without someone saying 'Hey, it's Bruce Wayne!'?"

"You get used to it." He shrugged. "Hm. Mozart. Alfred's gotten to you, hasn't he?"

"I've always enjoyed classical music, but I didn't fully realize that Mozart performed in front of monarchs at age five. Alfred knows almost all there is to know about him-I've even accidentally memorized his baptismal name. Johannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus Mozart…I've memorized Mozart's entire name. Where am I going to use that in life?"

* * *

><p>Next Wednesday, she found another apartment. She almost didn't want to leave Wayne Manor-they had become pretty good friends, but Bruce wasn't her mommy-err, daddy. She had to survive on her own.<p>

"I found another apartment." She announced while they were eating dinner.

"Really? Good. Can you take the fairies with you? They're starting to get on my nerves." Smiles broke out on their faces. She really didn't want to leave, but hey, that's life for ya.

"I'll take them with me tomorrow. And, Bruce…thank you for letting me stay here. Really. You've done so much for me…I don't know how to repay you."

"You don't need to."

"Guys like you are hard to find. I've only met two men in this town who's ever said anything like that to me, you included." She looked down and blushed. "I mean, I had two boyfriends before, but those are ones Jill set me with up…they were just…not nice."

"Speaking of Jill, have you heard anything about her?" Oh, damn…there he goes again, being his sweet and caring self…is he purposely making this harder?

"No…" her voice broke. "I tried talking to her fiance, but he heard nothing. One night, she went out to grab something at the store, and she didn't come back…" He put his hand on hers. She had to admit that her heart fluttered, if that made any sense.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. If anything, it's my fault. I failed her. I mean, I'm her closest friend, I've known her throughout her life…I should be the one to figure it out, but I can't…what if she's dead, Bruce? What if she tried to look for me? What if-?" Just as a tear welled in her eye, Alfred came in. She had never been more happy for his timing.

"Oh…I'm sorry."

"No, it's OK Alfred." She smiled at him. Alfred had become a sort of father figure to her-the father she never had. She didn't want to leave him either. "We were just talking about how I found a new apartment." She sighed, got up, and cleaned her plate off in the sink.

She went to her bedroom solemnly-she just needed to be alone for a minute or two and then she'd be right back out there. She wanted her last night in Wayne Manor to be fun-and it was going to be.

She laid back on the bed, mindful of the fact that she was going to leave the most comfortable bed in the world tomorrow, and look long, deep breaths. If she just had a few minutes to herself, she would be fine. She hoped Bruce didn't walk in-she'd spill her guts to him and be a wreck for the rest of the night. She's keeping all that turmoil in until she got a place of her own. Then she would walk around like a zombie while eating a gallon of chocolate ice cream and watching Titanic.

She emerged a few minutes later, forcing a smile. She found Bruce quietly watching the news.

"Hey, it's my last night here…wanna do something fun?" she asked, trying to not add any sort of connotation in the slightest.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Something memorable."

"There's an orchestra playing at the theater…" he offered.

"Really?" Caden had never seen an orchestra perform live-she thought she never would. And here she was, being offered to go? "Let's go there then." She tried to contain her joy.

They really did go-it was the most amazing experience of her life. Being Bruce Wayne, he was able to get tickets last-minute. She was still in shock when they got in the car.

"Is this how your life really is?" she said. "Do you always get to have this much fun?"

"It's not that fun without someone to share it with." He grinned shyly.

The orchestra was amazing-it was far different from hearing it on a computer. It was loud and over-powering and stunning…it was the most beautiful thing Caden had ever heard. Caden didn't pay attention to the names of the songs-she was too lost in the beauty of the music and the skill of the players. The way their hands gliding and their instruments sang almost effortlessly was beautiful. The first time she spoke was later in the car, still in awe.

"That was amazing…" she said contently, laying back against the seat. "I wanted to be like them when I was little. I wanted to be up on that stage, performing for hundreds of people. The dream kind of fell through the cracks, though."

"You can still be like that." Though his voice was encouraging, she knew she couldn't.

"You'd need a lot more training for that. I majored in music in college and was currently and slowly working my way in, but my mother needed my help. Before my father left, we had plenty of money, but when he was gone, my mother needed a stable job…not a musician. I took a job as a waitress for a while until I could find a job in music or writing. And now, I've lost that special…something I had for music. I think it just got lost along the way." They were silent for the rest of the ride, but it wasn't awkward. It still rang with the beauty of music.

* * *

><p>Caden still missed Wayne Manor three weeks later.<p>

There was still no word about Jill Though the police said they were investigating it, they probably had more pressing matters. Caden started asking people: lower mob-members, petty criminals, informants, and even the homeless. They heard more then one would think. The most she could find out what that she was still alive and that the mob wasn't involved, and she wasn't even sure that was true.

She had given herself time to wallow about it-one entire day devoted to crying, ice cream, and sad movies was more then enough.

She got the job, thankfully. It was pretty good-she was at the bottom, but she could work her way up. She caught up with Bruce about a week later. Her life was normal again-and it was amazing. Being able to come home, take a hot shower, and watch TV for an hour was as luxurious was a 5 star hotel.

Apparently, Bruce was a good friend to her…he came over and asked her to dinner on Saturday. Of course, she said yes. She enjoyed being around Bruce and he'd probably take her to some amazing top-notch restaurant.

She thought it a normal, friendly outing. Even though sometimes when they locked eyes she thought there was something more, she always ignored it. Right now, she didn't need to worry about stuff like that-she was having too much fun on her own.

Well…it was definitely an interesting night.


	7. Chapter 7: Nocturne Op 27

Chapter 7: Nocturne Op. 27

Caden could scarcely believe that she was sitting in one of Gotham's finest restaurants, and with Bruce Wayne nonetheless.

She was extremely careful not to get anything on the beautiful dress she decided to splurge on. She absolutely adored the dark blue color it was. Jill would have said it matched her eyes.

Jill…there was still nothing about her. Caden worried every night for her friend-cried often as well. This long with no word…that was rarely good. Caden was making herself accept that Jill might be dead, and that she would have to deal. No killing rampages.

"Never thought I would end up here." She said in awe as she sat down. "I'm actually scared."

"Why are you scared?" he asked, chuckling.

"Intimidated is a better word…I feel like these people will eat me alive."

"They're much more threatened by you then you are by them…they're like snakes."

"That's a good way to look at it. I like snakes." She smiled.

She let herself float away in the beautiful setting-the lights were dimmed perfectly and the air smelled amazing. It was easily one of the most relaxing experiences in her life. She had never been to any high-class, five-star restaurants. She had never wore an expensive dress. Bruce had shown her a completely different world…and she could have never dreamed that she'd be sitting here. She was scum from Gotham's underbelly, a person with high hopes but low chances of ever reaching success.

She was on her way. She would find Jill. She would make something of herself. She would live a good life, and die happily.

"You've been quiet." Bruce said as they left.

"I have? Oh, I'm sorry…I'm just…deep in thought."

"About what?"

"I could never have dreamed I'd end up here…before, I was just sort of scraping by and forcing myself to be happy, but now…I'm on my way, Bruce. And it's all thanks to you." She smiled, and turned to him. "Before I met you, before…" she paused. She was going to say "before my mother died," but she couldn't seem to get the words out. "I…there's something I haven't told you about, Bruce."

"Take your time." He said. She spent the next 15 minutes-long enough for them to reach Caden's house and pull in the driveway-both finding the right words and not bursting into tears.

"I think it all went to Hell when my brother left the second he graduated high school. I'm serious. With his cap and gown still on, he hopped in Cassandra's, now his wife's, car and drove off to someplace closer to the college he got accepted into. I just went the community college, but he went to some university. My father left shortly after-not that he was there our entire lives. He left when I was three and didn't come back until I was 12. He had joined the mob, even made quite a name for himself. My mother was never the righteous type, so she didn't complain when she got enough money to feed us. Anyway, since I was the only one had a job currently, I saved up my money, moved out of the two-story house I grew up in, and got an apartment. Everything got along fine until one night, roughly 11 months ago, the mob was looking for my father. They thought they saw him come to our apartment, but Mother hadn't spoken to him years. Even though she was telling the truth, when they decided she wasn't 'cooperating,' they held me back and shot her…" he stiffened and she bit her lip. "I…it was horrible. Being so helpless…the last thing my mother said was 'get away from my daughter!' I've never had lost control like that. I…I've never been so helpless…" she restrained tears. No, damn it, she wouldn't cry in front of Bruce. She had dealt with it. She wouldn't break down. Never, ever, again. "And then...this is going to sound crazy but..._Batman _burst in and knocked the guys out. I never got the chance to say 'thank you.' But when I went to call 9-1-1, they had awoken and escaped...the men who killed her escaped to some other continent. I tried chasing them down, but they evaded me…" she decided against telling Bruce about her killings. She hadn't even told Jill, and she knew Jill her entire life. "They still haven't been brought to justice. They still haven't paid for their crimes. That's why I went…crazy before. The need for revenge combined with the trauma and the fact that my father had schizophrenia too…I guess it was just like, BAM! Here I am!"

"I know how you feel." He said quietly. "My parents were killed by scum too, when I was eight."

"Oh…oh, Bruce…both of them?" she was immediately hollowed. She had never spoken to someone who had lost like she did-perhaps even more then she did. "I'm so sorry…I didn't know…here I am complaining, when you lost so much more."

"You aren't complaining." He forced a smile. "I'm here if you need me."

"Get out of the car." She said. She made a spur-of-the-moment decision. Thankfully, he followed her order.

They both exited the car. Caden walked around, and pulled him into a tight hug, and buried her face in the crook of his neck. She wanted to hide-hide from the world and all the pain it held. She just wanted to be lost in Bruce's arms with the smell of his cologne and the feel of his skin being the only sensation she felt.

She knew she was blushing-she was feeling that fluttery-butterfly-wing sensation she had last felt in high school as a love-struck teenager.

"Just…hold me. Just for a minute." Caden asked. And he did. Caden had never been happier. She tried to pull away, but Bruce's grasp was tight-it was only then did she notice how strong he was, like the tensed muscles of a hunting cat, ready to strike. If it wasn't Bruce, it might have scared her. She had been immobilized by pure strength once. Not that she thought Bruce would ever do anything to harm her-still, it was a natural response.

"Bruce…" she whispered, trying to pull away. Instead, he pressed his lips to Caden's, muffling her protests.

"…mmm? Mmm…" she moaned into his mouth. Oh…oh, wow. She was blushing severely now-her lips moved against his perfectly. Everything about him was so god damn perfect…

_Shit…um…_she forgot to breath…

She tried to get in sufficient air with her nose, but she failed. She had to pull away and make a fool of herself by gasping for air. She smiled, however, trying to brush it off.

"Well…wow…" she stuttered. "OK, now that I can breath…" she leaned in again, waiting for herself to wake up.

She didn't.

She had forgotten that she was standing in the parking lot of her apartment building-she forgot she was in the middle of Gotham, where criminals come to hide like cock-roaches in a kitchen. She forgot that she had to get to work in the morning and it was already late, and that Bruce was a billionaire who managed Wayne Enterprises-all she could think about was how lucky she was, and how fate had smiled on her when Bruce Wayne found her stumbling on the street, half-dead and half-mad.

After what seemed like only seconds, they pulled away. She couldn't help the crazy grin on her face.

Here comes the moment of truth, Caden…don't act like an idiot…

"Bruce…" she sighed. "I…wow. How lucky am I?" _Nice, Caden…nice…epic fail_. "OK, let's try that again…take two…" he chuckled.

"You don't have to try to impress me." He said while stroking her hair.

"Good, because I suck at it." She smiled. "I guess this means I'll…see you soon?"

"I'll drive you to work tomorrow. You're off on weekends, right?" It was Thursday night...no, Friday night. That day used to be so important as a kid.

"I'd like that. I'll see you tomorrow, Bruce." She smiled, trying to remain confident, as she turned, and went back into her home.

She waited until she heard the car drive away, and slowly sunk down against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest on the ground while grinning like an idiot. She had just kissed Bruce Wayne. And she felt like a god damn, stupid, love struck teenager.

**Chopin's "Nocturne Op. 27" was chosen for this chapter because, at first, it is quiet, calm and peaceful-but amps up into a fit of turmoil, and slowly melts into pleasure. **


	8. Chapter 8: The Hall of the Mountain King

Chapter 8: In the Hall of the Mountain King

Caden fell back against the bed, tired and sore. The combination of the new job, stress, Addison's Disease, and the constant nagging at her mind was getting to her. The new job, though decent, was starting to get worse. Sitting at a computer all day long was the exact opposite of what she wanted to do, but hey, it's a job-you go there to work and make money, not to have fun.

Stress over Jill, her falling-apart car, and the constant fear that her brother would expose her certainly didn't help. She also thought the Addison's Disease (something she got almost a year ago after a horrible period of unemployment) medication was screwing with her, and the constantly pressing fear of schizophrenia returning unnerved her day and night. She had to cover this all up for fear of Bruce discovering.

Speaking of Bruce, Caden thought that was the one thing going well. She didn't really know where they stood-where they technically "in a relationship"? They saw each other often, like a couple would. They went on "dates," though Bruce would never call it that, like a couple would. They had kissed, of course, but they never made any sort of commitment to each other. Caden didn't really care-he was a billionaire and probably very busy. If she didn't know him so well, she'd think he was using her, but he wouldn't do that.

"Oh well." Caden sighed. She knew there was something there-she didn't know what, yet-but there was something.

Maybe she should talk to a therapist-never before would she have admitted to herself that she needed help, but it was either pride or schizo. Caden took the former. Nothing, absolutely nothing, was found on Jill, and, although they still kept a look out for her, they presumed she was dead. Caden assumed that as well, but every now and then, when she had the nerve, she would put on dark clothes and grab a knife, strictly for protection, and go searching. She'd go to every abandoned warehouse, slum, nook, and cranny of Gotham to find Jill. She had gotten through the slums with no damage done to her. She was able to sneak in while the criminals were playing around and look. No Jill.

After that, she thought about looking in the sewers, but she didn't know if the infamous "Killer Croc" was down there. If that fucker had gotten to Jill, there was no way she would still be alive. Until she got a gun, she wouldn't go in too deep. Jill wouldn't want them both dead.

However, the thought that she might be hidden in the normal parts of Gotham-where murder was only somewhat often-but most places there had security cameras or, at least, where houses. No matter how strong Caden's will was, if she went through every house she would either get caught by the police or beaten to death with a baseball bat. Neither of those seemed pleasant.

There was little Caden could do besides pray and keep an ear open. She felt as if she wasn't doing enough to help her friend, but Jill would remind her that she was locked up in Arkham when it happened. Even her fiancee couldn't figure out where she was.

She was taking the medication-she was afraid of what would happen if she didn't get it-but maybe she needed more then that. She decided that in the morning she would schedule an appointment with a psychologist. She laid back and fell asleep in a manner she had done for too long-laying on her back with the pillow over her head. Though it was comforting, she longed for difference and change.

She went the therapist the next day-it was shockingly, hauntingly familiar to the doctors at the Asylum. However, she continued visiting-it went well for a month, and Caden was actually getting better.

However, she could have never imagined how far her life would veer off-track when she was walking home from the store one night and she heard slow, maniacal laugh behind her.


	9. Chapter 9: Sucide on an Airplane

Chapter 9: Suicide in an Airplane by Ornstein

She pivoted on her heel, muscles tensed and ready to attack. As she gripped her knife, teeth bared, she was prepared for anything to come her way, but what she saw she was certainly not expecting. She stared directly into the eyes of a madman as he grinned evilly. His face was painted white, his eyes covered with black, and his lips stained blood red. His yellowed teeth showed. Caden couldn't help but shiver-she knew who this was, and never wanted to meet him.

"The infamous Joker…" she whispered into the cluttered Gotham night air. He stepped back, and widened his arms, like a magician saying 'Ta-da!' after a trick.

"The one and only." She almost scoffed at his purple and green suit, but it fit his gimmick.

"I've heard about you." He said as he began to circle her like a shark. Fear weaseled its way into Caden's mind. This was the man who blew up hospitals with glee, who shot at passing cars without a care, who made Gotham his own sadistic playground, a corrupted jungle-gym of souls sliding down the slippery slopes of slides and soaring high on swings.

"And I've heard about you." Caden retorted, fighting against the tremors worming through her spine. He faked shock and gasped.

"Really? And I thought I was being so discreet." He added a strange emphasis to the 't.'

"You know people-they tend to gossip when a hospital blows up." Caden meant it to be snarky, but the Joker burst into a crazy laugh, cackling like a true psychopath. She saw why he dressed up as a clown-he was a clown, corrupted and crazy but laughing and light-hearted.

"And what about you, hmm? You even had the Bat trying to find you." _Ouch. Mind-bomb_. Her killings and almost capture wasn't public knowledge. He had to have sources to know of that, and that meant he could know anything about her. A flicker of intuition flashed in the back of her mind-what if his source was her father? That would explain why he ran off, why her mother was killed, how he would know…

He knew she knew this-she could tell from the sinister look in his eyes. He had planted a grenade in her mind and was awaiting the fireworks.

"What else do you know about me?" She was in no mood for beating around the bush with this guy, this joker-she silently chuckled at the pun-because she knew that with him, her life could very well be at stake.

"Well, you're not much fun, are you?" He added a few creepy snickers.

"Not when my life is on the line." He only continued to guffaw.

"But that's when life is most fun!...when you have a chance of _losing it._" In a surge of anger, she grabbed him by the neck and slammed him against the wall. She wasn't able to pick him off the ground, but his head snapped back against the brick wall. He cringing, but just kept chortling. She gritted her teeth.

"Are you working for my father?" she demanded, not even caring who heard her at this point.

"I work for no one. Only…" he paused. "…chaos." He began to laugh at the ridiculousness. She groaned and released him, letting him slump to the ground.

"Fucking psycho." She hissed as she started to walk away. She gasped as her leg was pulled out from under her. She landed on the ground painfully, hissing and cursing. It smarted slightly, but she was more pissed about the fact that he wouldn't let her leave. She craned her neck, in a helpless position, and saw the Joker was standing over her. He was still laughing. As she was trying to get up, he put a foot on her back. She groaned. Of course, leave it her to get pinned by Arkham's greatest case of psychosis.

He crouched next to her, still keeping her down with his arm. He was much stronger then her, of course, and the only way she could attack and get away was to take him by surprise, which could prove difficult. Even if he did act rather reckless and stupid, he knew how to fight, much better then she did.

"You see, ah, Caden, is it?" he wasn't asking. "You spent time in Arkham, did you not?" he licked his lips, pausing for dramatic effect. "I know from experience that they can't really, ah…fix anyone. I'm sure your daddy issues has left you a little…unstable. Because of that, they called you crazy and threw you in a padded cell." Caden stiffened-what he said made sense, but… "They call people like us crazy, when it's really the people of Gotham who are craaazyy…I believe that we should show them their true colors."

"…we?" she asked. "You built your plan around the hope that I will help you?"

"You think I need your help?" he hissed. "But…imagine what everyone will think when they see one of Gotham's normal woman holding the detonator? Their, ah, precious little hope will-," he made exploding noises and gestures. "-be blown to bits."

"And what grudge do I have against Gotham? Why would I want to destroy it?" he snickered and let Caden off the ground.

"Destroy Gotham? Why would I want to do that? It's just too much fun watching them squirm." He stopped for a second, and looked off into the distance. Caden saw the explosions and screams dancing in his eyes, watched him lick his lips as he imagined the gradual decay of Gotham's mind. It terrified but also fascinated her.

"You didn't answer my question." Caden politely reminded him.

"And you completely agree with Gotham's ways?" he asked, raising a paint-matted eyebrow.

Then, the Joker had gotten to her. How many other people in this damned city had been victims of injustice? How many children were abused? How many little girls were raped by their father? How many boys were tormented by their mothers? How many watched as they parents died? How many were helpless, just like she was, as someone they loved was hurt? How many others had been in Caden's shoes? How many had been like Bruce, who lost their parents to the disease of Gotham? How many had suffered because of scum in this city, scum that she had to eradicate?

One little part of her told her that the Joker wouldn't help her get rid of the criminals. She would only become a criminal herself, but damn it, what else could she do? The police did nothing. Batman was the only person taking things into his own hands, and even he was branded an outlaw. Were all who actually wanted to do more then drive around in a car pulling over speeders outlaws?

She could never sit by and let what happened to her happen to others. The only way to do that was join this madman and try to get rid of as many of the criminals as she could.

_Um…Caden, he's talking about killing innocent people, not criminals…_

_Damn it! _

Well, with the Joker on her side, she could kill the criminals. And, besides, not all the "normal working-class people" were innocent. The mob didn't consist of Gotham's underbelly.

"No. I don't." She sighed. Damn, damn, damn. Was this was she was reduced to? Working with this…thing? This creature without a conscious or emotion? _You gotta do what you gotta do, I guess. _

"Then help me with something, sweetheart."

"What?" She knew not to run in circles with this guy-she wouldn't play into his little games. She would work with him, nothing more. She had no hatred against Gotham as a whole or an insane need for excitement. After she got what she wanted-revenge for her mother's death-she would never harm anyone. She hadn't before her mother died and she wouldn't after.

"What do you want?" he asked. "Everybody wants something."

"You want something to hold over me-to tempt me with, so I don't turn your ass in." Caden said calmly and smoothly-_wow, where did that come from? _She had never been slick or clever. Maybe it was all part of becoming a killer.

"You've seen right through me!" he said in fake shock, baring a smile full of yellow teeth. "Now answer the question. What is it that you want? Money? Guns? Power? A name?"

"First…what is it that you want, Joker?" Caden was trying to ensnare him in some way, just so she could get some sort of leverage over him. He only laughed.

"I asked you firs-t." He retorted. A-ha! He doesn't want to tell! Or maybe he's just being difficult…

"Then guess."

"Revenge on your mother." Caden stiffened when she heard the sound of a knife being drawn. He had no reason to attack her, but this man didn't need reason. Good thing she had her knife with her too-she was tightly gripping it in her pocket.

"Ooh. You're good. My turn? I think you don't want anything. You're just doing all of…this for the fun of it. And it is fun, isn't it? Having the life of so many people in your hands...it's an adrenaline rush." He flashed a sinister grin. _Yes...get him to like you...get him to __**trust **__you..._

"I knew I liked you. Your father said some mean things about you, but…" A grenade went off in her mind. It had been in her, waiting and waiting, for a long time, ticking, slowly growing to a strength unimaginable. Every last bit of rage and hatred she had swallowed for the past year or so exploded, flaring, making a seismic wave of destruction.

It was terrifying, being so angry. She had never felt stronger or more powerful. It was like riding lightning-she grabbed the Joker by the collar and shook him with a force equal to that of a 8.0 earthquake.

"WHERE IS MY FATHER?" she yelled. The Joker began to laugh loudly, bursting with insanity.

"Don't worry. I'll tell you. Right after you help me with something."

"…what?" she growled through clenched teeth. Never had she said a word with such acid, such hatred.

"I, like always, have someone to kill. If you help me kill them, then I'll tell you where your father is." Caden couldn't help but agree. Yes, her father…yes, that was perfect. She wouldn't kill him quickly, once she found him. He'd suffer as much as she did. She released her death grip on his collar.

"Deal." She was, of course, ashamed at herself-what would Bruce say?-but this was something she had to do. Without an end, she would never be at peace. Her father's death, his end, would justify her means. He gave another crazed grin. It had almost become normal.

"Good. Meet me tomorrow night, at midnight, in the Narrows…I'll find you." The tone of his voice sent shivers down her spine, but she nodded. Without saying another word, she turned her back to him, and walked down the street.

She returned home knowing she had made a terrible mistake-but the ends justify the means. They always do.

They _had _to.\


	10. Chapter 10: Night on Bald Mountain

Chapter 10: Night on Bald Mountain

Caden could not believe she was doing this.

She stumbled around the Narrows, hopelessly trying to navigate the labyrinth of slums and not get killed along the way, looking for the Joker. He would be easy to spot in a crowd-most people don't wear paint themselves like a clown everyday-but Caden had a feeling that he wouldn't be anywhere near a mass of people. If he didn't want to be found, no one could find him.

After an hour of searching relentlessly, she was exhausted. She glanced into the 500th ally, expecting nothing. Her assumptions were correct-nothing but garbage and dirt.

Groaning aloud, she wandered into the ally, and slumped to the ground, defeated. She pulled her legs to her chest, battling the coldness of the night. It was late February, and still cold as shit. Her breath was visible in the air. The bitterness of defeat was as strong as the chill in the air.

If she didn't find this guy, she might lose her only lead on her father. Even though he said he'd find her, she didn't believe it. She had come a little earlier then she needed-11-just to make sure she would find him. It was now midnight, and she was lost.

"Fuck." She hissed under her breath. Ignoring her prickling skin, she let her head hang between her legs. How many times had she failed? All she wanted was revenge. People like her father deserved to die. Why was fate decreeing that she can't get to him, even if the world would be so better off without him?

After a few minutes of wallowing, a man stepped in front of her, greedy eyes staring down at her.

"What?" she hissed. She glared up at the unremarkable man, only distinguishable by large tattoos and greedy, muddy brown eyes.

"The boss is looking for you." He said plainly. She hoped he meant Joker. She got off the ground and followed him as he nimbly navigated the streets in a way she couldn't. Before she knew it, the man had taken her to an abandoned warehouse. It, too, was unremarkable. Maybe that's why the Joker was able to avoid capture for so long-despite his extravagant appearance, everything else he surrounded himself with was unremarkable. No one would suspect it-even though abandoned warehouses were top places for crime, there was just so many of them they wouldn't know where to look.

He opened the door, and, despite her second thoughts, she entered. The room was empty except for other henchmen, guns, what looked like explosives, and a small TV. The Joker was no where to be seen, but his goons with clown masks were. She stirred some interest, but they went back to putting ammo in their guns and fiddling with other equipment.

"Where is he?" Caden asked the man guiding her. Damn it, if he wasn't here, she would leave and never look back.

"Miss me?" Caden shuddered at his voice. It crept up her spine, leaving shivers in it's wake, and attacked her brain, sending signals of fear and destruction. That voice alone made her want to flee, to run away from this horrid place and go home, where she could tuck herself safely into bed.

"Terribly." She said sarcastically, hoping it would make her seem anything but afraid. She turned to face him, who was slowly creeping up on her. She met his eyes, trying to keep hers steady and calm. She wouldn't be scared of him. Never. "So, who's the lucky target?"

"You just leave that to me, ah, sweetheart." Caden hated him calling her that, but if she gave him the satisfaction of knowing it bothered her, he'd continue to do it.

"So what is the point of me? If I don't know who I'm killing, then I'm obviously not killing anyone." She knew that being a smart-ass to him wasn't the best idea, but she was in no mood for games.

"Oh, you will help us kill _someone_…" God damn it, if he keeps smiling like that, I'm going to throttle him…

He turned to his henchmen and nodded. After a moment of confusion, Caden was slammed to the ground. It knocked the wind out of her, a wave of pain washing over her body. She was speechless as they tackled to the ground. All she could think of was the clown faces looming over her, staring at her, binding her limbs-

Then, the fear she had gained when her mother was killed and she was helpless kicked in. She was trapped, cornered, controlled, just like when her mother was killed. Eyes widened with terror, her body kicked into overdrive.

When the first scream came out of her, they clamped a hand over her mouth. She kicked and thrashed and yelled past the humid palm, but there was too many of them, and damn it, she was too weak.

_Just as weak as you were when your mother died-you could have tried harder, you could have protected her, you worthless bitch-_

"Oh, calm down." He commanded. "Look," he paused and licked his lips. "we're gonna make it look like you've been taken hostage. Then, when the guy we want comes charging in here, we disappear and you…" he made a gun with his hands and made shooting noises. He's still a little kid at heart.

"As long as you keep up your part of the bargain." She threatened.

"Of course. I'm a man of my word…" something in his voice just felt wrong to Caden, but if he didn't, she'd have fun killing him.

The thought flashed in her mind for a second. As he handed her a small hand-gun, she could take out this creep once and for all with a single blow to the head. She could stop the menace tormenting Gotham-then, her life would actually mean something.

No. She needed to find her father and make him pay. If the cops weren't smart enough to get in the same position as she was, then it's their fault, not hers.

She sighed, and let them tie her to a chair. She had never felt so helpless in all of her life, but she swallowed her emotions and remained nonchalant.

"Before we begin, there's something you should see." He turned on the small TV that lay on the ground. He fiddled with the antenna until it picked up a station-that was currently having a Breaking News interruption.

"Police have recently gotten reports that state Gotham resident Caden Smithart is missing-she was last seen arguing with infamous criminal 'The Joker' yesterday. If there are any leads, please report them to the police." She watched as the man explained her predicament with little emotion.

"Why in the hell did they go through the trouble to announce that?" She asked. Gotham had more missing people then New York City-why would they even say that she was "missing" when so many other people were missing and no one bothered to say a word?

"You're buddies with Bruce Wayne! You're one of the important people." The man who led her here said. She hated him now, for leading her into this trap.

"You speak?" She thought he only knew "the boss is looking for you." She set her gaze on the Joker. She was tired of him now-she wanted answers, and she would damn well get them. "No more games, Joker. Who is it you want me to kill? Some cop?"

"No, no! If I wanted a cop dead, I'd do it myself. Much more fun that way."

"Nice evasion. Now, can you please tell me? I'm resorting to begging here…"

"I think the, ah, shock of seeing your…'rescuer' for the first time will make it more…believable." His laughing eyes mocked Caden. She was just his pawn now, a tool to his success. Could she expect any better, not just from him, but from everyone else in the world? The reason she had such few friends was because she knew the bitterness of this world. The cruelty in the Joker could easily be found everywhere else in Gotham. They, however, decided to act out their malice by silently and slowly breaking others down, dominating them, as if they were alpha males of a wolf pack. The only reason the Joker was feared was because he allowed that pure evilness to tinge and corrupt his soul, to the point where he was so full of that poison that he had to release it on other people.

God, was Caden like that?

No. She couldn't be. She wouldn't be.

"Can you at least tell me when he is supposed to come?" Damn, she'd settle for any sort of information right now, anything to get the upper-hand. She didn't like feeling so helpless-it drove her absolutely mad.

"Oh, he'll be here soon. Don't worry about that." After wildly looking around the room and at a clock, he turned back to her. "In fact…we should probably leave _now_." He signaled them to leave. Good, Caden thought. She couldn't stand another second alone with him. As they shuffled away to hide, like cockroaches shuttling away when a light is turned on, Caden tried to find a way to amuse herself. She would imagine that, if in real, mortal danger, she wouldn't be bored, sitting tied up in a chair, but knowing fully that she wouldn't be killed at any second, it was just boring. It reminded her of waiting in line for an inside roller-coaster. She didn't know what would happen, but she wanted it to happen already, damn it.

She resorted to humming songs she memorized until she finally reached the end of the line.

She was not expecting the hectic ride that ensued.

The first thing she hear was a loud swish. It reminded her of when she was in the Midwest visiting a relative in the fall and the nightingales would flock together, covering entire fields in spotted black. There were hundreds of them-and they would all take off at once. She would roll down the window and just listen to the thunderous flapping of wings.

But this wasn't thunderous. It was barely audible in the room.

_Oh…shit. _

She decided to wait to draw conclusions. Would he really-?

She focused on looking terrified-eyes wide, slightly shaking. As she was trying to make the blood disappear from her face, impossibly swift hands removed the rope on her wrists.

"Are you OK?" he asked, his voice gruff and scratchy. When she first heard that voice, it rubbed against her ears like sandpaper, like a cat's tongue. She hated his damn voice-it had haunted her hallucinations and paranoia's, but now she hated it for a different reason. How stupid did he have to be to hunt down a "hostage" with a history of schizophrenia and murders?

She turned to face him, but not with a look of gratitude and relief like he deserved. "I am, but you're not." She warned. "Get out of here now." He gave her a confused look. In a movement so quick it even caught him off-guard, she brought the gun to his face-damn, it was not even a foot away from him-and cocked it. "Get out of here!" she repeated. Before he could flee, Joker's laughter filled the room, loud and wild and heart-stoppingly cruel.

"You people are all so predictable." He stalked closer, like a hyena closing in on victims. "Do you know how fun it would be to see the Bat bet up on a sweet little thing like you?" he chuckled just thinking about it. "But now…now, I get the pleasure…" The way he said "pleasure," drawn out and dark, actually made Caden shake. Nothing besides her hallucinations had made her do that.

The gun seemed to come from nowhere-which was strange, since guns were something you were supposed to notice. The first time Caden saw it was when it was pointed at Batman. It was only for a single millisecond, but pure, Gotham instinct kicked in, and she pushed Batman out of the way with a strength she didn't know she possessed. Maybe it was like a mother lifting a car off her baby-in times of need, your body would force itself to perform. It had to.

Caden didn't have time to think. She was only able to repeat "shit, shit, shit! Shit!" in her head. She grabbed Batman's hand and made a beeline for the door, which was on the other side of the room. The Joker's goons blocked her way. Before they could shoot, Batman pushed her to the side and attacked the two men.

"Get out!" he bellowed as he barraged the henchmen with well placed and times attacks. No. She got him into this mess, she'd help him out of it. Even though he would work better without someone to protect, he almost got shot a second ago.

Well…if they can use guns, so can she.

She sprinted towards the gun, knowing she'd either have to slide or time it very well to pick it up at the speed she was going.

And, of course, in her attempt, she tripped. She god-damn tripped.

She scrambled towards the gun. Her hand would have been on it in less then a second, but she grasped empty air. The Joker stood over her, teeth bared, after kicking the gun to the other side of the room.

"Fuck…" she bit her lip, drawing blood, letting the thick metallic taste enter her mouth. Blood tasted like copper and fear.

"Sorry, sweetheart." Knives shot out of his shoes. After her eyes grew, she rolled out of the path of his kick. This only enticed him more. She struggled to get up from the ground before he attacked again. She dodged in the nick of time, the edge of the blade only slicing the skin on her leg. She released a loud hiss, but ignored the pain and bolted in the direction of the gun.

Bad move.

The gun was too far. And in the _corner._

She was already there when she realized that.

His eyes held madness and evilness and insanity and…Oh, God, had she ever been more terrified? This…thing would kill her without a thought and enjoy it. She'd never see Bruce again. She wouldn't find Jill. She wouldn't avenge her Mom.

At least she would see her again.

That thought alone gave her enough hope to stand tall. She was prepared for anything._ Go on, do it you fucking asshole…_

She steeled herself for the blow…and it never came.

Batman came up behind him, silent as a jungle cat, and wrapped an arm around the Joker's neck, gripping him in a head lock. The shock of not dying sent her reeling. She wasn't even able to run. She wished she had when the Joker pulled free.

She always remembered watching fights in movies. There was someone standing on the sidelines, doing nothing, while the other two fought. Caden had always hated them, but now...she couldn't attack if she wanted to. It was all a blur of black and purple, a mixture of growls, snickers, and grunts. If she tried to shoot Joker, she'd probably hit Batman by mistake.

It's OK, Caden. He's a professional…fighter…vigilante…ninja…whatever.

She could, however, shoot the goons closing in on him.

Picking up the gun, thankful that she had a Glock at home (guns were like driver's license's in Gotham) and aimed at the men. They didn't notice her until she pulled the trigger. The closest goon, one with a ridiculous clown mask, got a bullet right in the kneecaps.

The feeling of power caused such an adrenaline rush. She almost smiled as she shot the next one-the one that led her here. There was 4 more-the other 6 Batman had taken care of. She could only hope they wouldn't get to her first. The Joker and Batman were right in front of her, so at least she had some cover. The Universal Law of Bad Luck deemed that they would accidentally shoot Joker instead of Batman, the same way she would accidentally hit Batman instead of Joker. She had to wait until they moved just slightly to get the next guy.

Apparently, the last two weren't that stupid. They had her flanked-one on her right, one on her left. She aimed at the man on the left, the one who looked more dangerous, (she would rather leave the weakest one for Batman to deal with-he looked tired) resorting to that black-and-white nature of hers.

She was about to pull the trigger when a gunshot that wasn't hers rang through the room. She didn't feel any pain, so she knew it was Batman who was shot.

"Shit!" her curse filled the room as she saw Batman holding his side. She wildly shot at the two men, desperation pushing away caution and sense. Bullets whizzed past her ear like bees, but loud thuds on the ground told no tales. She ignored them and ran to him. She was shocked when she saw the the Joker held no gun-they were using only their fists. It was probably one of the goons that shot him.

She was, for the hundredth time tonight, surprised when he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled out what looked like a gun. He shot it at one of the upper levels that she hadn't noticed before. She gasped when she began to fly through the air, straight towards the pillar. It was like being on a roller-coaster, going up a fast hill that lifts the passengers out of their seats. She was on the ground again, standing on the upper level, when she realized what had happened.

"Grappling gun. Nice." She smiled. "Let's get you out of here. I know first aid-I can get the bullet out. I'm pretty sure you don't want to go to the hospital." She started to look around for an exit-and saw only a window. "Have you mastered the art of escaping through windows?" she glanced over her shoulder to see the Joker standing around a pile of bodies, his goon's corpses, grinning up at them like a kid in a candy store. _Fucked up psychopath…_

Batman had, despite the bullet lodged in him, struggled over to the window. She followed him. He aimed the grappling gun at a nearby fire escape. She felt giddy as she sailed across the street with a firm grip on they were closest to the ground, he shouted "let go" and she did so. She stumbled and nearly Of course, he would stir attention, but they were in one of the back-alleys…and her car was parked in the middle.

"I know First Aid. If I can get to my car-,"

"No. My car." He interrupted her. She nodded a little too enthusiastically. He pressed a button and a large noise ripped through the night. She squeezed her eyes shut, as dust flew like birds taking off, but when she opened her eyes...she couldn't restrain her gasp. She had heard about the "Bat-mobile" and the thought being inside that…tank excited her.

She stared in awe for a moment, admiring the perfect black and the various and confusing plates that composed it, but she couldn't gawk. She got inside the car and tried to absorb her surroundings.

She also tried not to look as he carefully removed his…shirt-body armor-thing that now had a large bullet wound. He laid out as best as he could and she wormed her way to the wound.

"I need a knife, a lighter, and something to clean it." She said. He reached into a little crevice and pulled out a First-Aid kit and handed her a Batarang. She chuckled to herself-who would think she would be digging a bullet out of Batman using one of his own little Bat-toys?

The bullet wasn't too deep, but it was bleeding a lot. That was good and bad-the bullet wasn't stopping the bleeding (so it was better to get the thing out) but he was losing too much blood. There was no veins in the way. Miraculously, the bullet had wounded no internal organs. There was even another bullet wound close by, just a little to the left, long since healed. Thankfully, there was a lighter in the kit too. Guess he knew how to cauterize wounds as well-her mother taught her at a young age. In Gotham, you never knew what could happen, and it was always better to have the upper-hand.

"This is gonna hurt like hell." She warned solemnly. He nodded in acknowledgment. Ignoring squeamishness, she slowly tipped the edge of the Batarang into the wound, sliding it under the bullet. He stiffened and sucked in a sharp breath of air, but otherwise steeled himself. He was Batman-he was used to pain. He could handle it.

Balancing between caution and speed, she slowly lifted the edge, bringing the bullet upward. When it popped out, she inspected it for any fractures. If it had shattered, she'd have to take him to the hospital for sure. She was no nurse-this was just gritty first-aid she learned so she wouldn't be helpless.

"How are you holding up?" she asked as she cleaned the wound. She heard his loud groan of pain as the rubbing alcohol purified the large hole. "I'm sorry." She cringed. She remembered the pain of it when she was a kid and her mother poured this stuff on her scraped knees. This pain was probably extremely worse-but if he didn't suffer through it, the wound would get infected, and that wasn't a pleasant thing. "I'm going to cauterize it now-do you want to take a break for a second, so you don't die from sensory overload?" Her voice carried a strange note of humor, which was out of place right now, but much needed. He shook his head. "OK then…we're almost done." She pulled out the lighter and the Batarang again. She held the lighter by the weapon, heating it as best she could. This would better with a fire, but this would have to do."This is going to be a bitch…" she sighed as pressed the heated knife on the ripped flesh. He released a sound that was the sound of pure, intense, pain, but it only lasted two seconds. It was completely closed now. She rubbed on anti-bacterial gel and put a large bandage on it.

"There you go." She said with a smile. She was actually proud of her work. He wouldn't have to go to the hospital, something that wouldn't work for a vigilante. He sat up, moving his legs from her chair.

"Thank you." After Caden blushed, she realized his voice was different. He removed the scratches, but it was still heavier and thicker then most voices. Still…it sounded vaguely familiar…

She shrugged. She probably just heard his voice on the street and remembered it now.

"Your welcome. You couldn't go to a hospital, and, since bullets tend to kill people…" she shrugged.

The number of surprises that happened that night had grown to record proportions.

He grabbed Caden's arm, pulled her close…and kissed her.

Strangely, it was...familiar. There was something that she had felt before; a little _twang_, a twist of her stomach and heart that she only felt with one person...

It was...unsettling. Their lips met for little more then 5 seconds. He smelled of sweat and an under-lying scent of faded cologne, only noticeable because of the closeness.

He pulled away slowly, like he wanted to linger longer. Well, making out in the Bat-mobile wasn't on her top list of things to do. With all the fancy buttons, she'd probably hit one by accident and they'd self-destruct or something.

"Where do you live?" he asked.

"I can drive myself home." She admitted.

"The Joker might be looking for you."

"Fine. Just drive me to my car. If you show up at my apartment building in this tank, people might call the cops." She chuckled.

"Alright. Where's it at?"

"By the bridge. Just drop me off there."

"And what's to stop the Joker from attacking you?" Aw. Concern. Sweet.

"Too soon, Batsy. Revenge is better when it's timed." He gave in, and drove through the back streets and alleys until the bridge was in walking distance.

"Thanks." She smiled. "And…you're welcome." He nodded. She climbed out of the car and waiting for him to drive away. She didn't hear him drive away, but the car seemed to vanish from view.

She dug through her pockets for her keys, found her car keys, and drove home.

* * *

><p>It was 1:30 in the morning when she got back. And Caden couldn't sleep.<p>

She had just came home. She was exhausted and sore, so she immediately stumbled to her bed in hopes to sleep. But, like most nights, she and slumber weren't on speaking terms. At 3:35, she was wide awake.

Maybe she just had to talk to someone. You know, get it all out. And then she wouldn't be so tired.

Hm…who to talk to? All she really had was Bruce, but she couldn't bother him. As she sat and tried to think of people, she just said "fuck it" and called Bruce. He cared enough to know that she had almost been killed numerous times that night. Besides, he would trust her-and not blab to the cops.

She called-and, of course, Alfred answered. "Is Bruce alive?" she meant the "alive" to mean "awake." Damn, she hoped he was alive.

"And kicking." Alfred answered.

"Is it OK if I come over? Something…different just happened, and if I bottle it up, I'll go on a psychotic rampage and kill thousands of people." She prayed it sounded sarcastic enough.

"Well I'm sure no one wants that to happen. Come over, Caden-you're always welcome here." His fatherly nature warmed her heart. She wished, for a moment, that she was Alfred's daughter, instead of the asshole that left her and her mother.

"Thanks. I'll be over in a few." She hung up and nearly ran to her car. The late hours insured that there was little traffic. She was over there in less then 15 minutes.

She took the elevator (a freaking elevator! She still hadn't gotten used to it!) up to the top floor where Bruce lived. Was the rest of the Tower even used?

As she walked in, Bruce was pulling a shirt over his chest. She caught a glimpse of a large bandage on the bottom right of his body, next to an old, faded bullet-wound.


	11. Chapter 11: A Tear

Chapter 11: A Tear, by Mussorgsky

"Caden!" he said with a full smile. "Alfred said something exciting happened…?"

"Bruce…" she walked closer, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. "What happened here?" He recoiled when she placed a hand on the bandage, completely visible under the button-down white shirt.

"Nothing." He insisted. She lifted the shirt up and ran a hand over the bandage.

"Funny. A few minutes ago, I could have sworn I met Batman. He was shot, and I dug the bullet out of him…cauterized the wound and put a bandage over it. There was even another bullet wound the same distance from it, a lot like this one…funny coincidence, huh?" There was a devilish smile on her face. So…Bruce Wayne was Batman? Well…Batman had to be loaded to get al-

Wait…if he was Batman…the he knew…

_Oh. OH…Oh shit. _

He knew she killed people. He knew before before she went crazy. Now, he would want to know what she was doing with the Joker.

"Bruce…can I take off the bandage?" There was a hopeless look on his face. Did he trust her? She didn't know. She would never tell a soul, even if she was paid, tortured, or told where her father was, but he didn't know that.

He nodded, and she slowly lifted the bandage off the skin. The final piece of evidence rested under it-a cauterized, circular bullet wound.

She could hardly breath now. Bruce Wayne was Batman.

That meant so many things. She was friends with Batman. Bruce Wayne knew she killed those people. Batman just saved her life. She just saved Bruce Wayne's life.

Shit. She couldn't even think of them as separate now.

"Bruce…you're Batman." She didn't say it like a question, but she meant it to be. "I-,"

"I know you killed those people, Caden." Their voices were barely whispers now. "And I don't care."

"You don't? Why?" Batman was a symbol of good. He was the single force of justice in this city-and his victims never died. He had never killed before. He should look down upon her for killing them instead of turning them into the cops.

_ Should _was being used too much. _Should _didn't work when your world was being held upside-down over the ledge of a tall building. _Should _was impossible. She didn't know what _should _happen. She didn't know what could, should, or would happen.

Time to just play it by ear.

"I know what it's like, Caden. My parents were killed by injustice, too. All I wanted was the man responsible to die-and he did. But listen to me-I felt no better after it happened."

Caden's usually indestructible control broke. Tears filled her eyes as she clung to Bruce, nuzzling her head in his chest. She didn't think about it-but were they friends? More? Less? She didn't care, damn it.

"I don't know what to think anymore. I tried to strike a blow at my father and I endangered your life. You were shot, Bruce-you could have died. I'd have your death on my conscious too."

"I endangered my own life." She pulled away and looked into his eyes.

"For me."

"It was my own decision." He placed his forehead on his, eyes still captivating hers.

"I'm not worth it, Bruce." The tears were starting to leak into her voice, making it unsteady and wavering. Damn it, she _hated _being like this, having no control over herself. Even when she was stricken by guilt and killing mercilessly, at least she had control. Now? Now, she was victim of her own emotions.

"Of course you are." His sincerity broke her heart.

"No, I'm not Bruce." It took every last bit of control she had to pull away. "I'm not worth the life of Gotham's only hero."

"I'm no hero." He admitted.

"Yes, you are. You put the men that torment and kill others behind bars, men like my father. Hell, women too. You _are _a hero. And I'm just a murdering bitch from Gotham."

"Those men deserved what they got, Caden."

"I know, but that doesn't matter. Why didn't you take me to jail for murder?" The question always lingered in the back of her mind.

"You killed criminals. No one would care. You shouldn't either."

"And why don't you ask why I was with the Joker?" her volume level grew. "You want to know why? He told me he knew where my father was. He also told me to shoot the person coming to rescue me. That was our deal-I kill whoever he was trying to catch, and he tells me where my father is, so I can go off and kill again." She hated herself now, just for thinking about killing anyone noble and brave enough to rescue her. "I'm fucked-up, Bruce. You don't want to be with me-as friends or anything else." She would have never thought twice about being with him if he didn't know what she had done. She was just trying to defend herself now. Fucking bitch.

"Caden…" he sighed, cupping a hand around her cheek.

"Damn it, stop looking at me like that!" She tore herself away, turning her back to him. Why isn't he understanding? "Stop acting like this is nothing. I killed people, and I'd do it again to get back at my father. You? Both of your parents were shot in front of you and you beat up criminals and put them in jail."

"Your point?"

"I…I have to go. I…I just need to..." she wiped the tears away from her eyes, ashamed she even shed them. "I…I'll see you later."

He couldn't even stop her as she nearly ran out of the room, down the elevator, and back home.

When she laid down in bed, unable to sleep, for the second time that night, she realized two things.

1: She definitely had feelings for Bruce. However extreme they were, they couldn't be allowed.

2: Even if they remained only friends, she was a danger to him-to his identity, to his other friends, and his very life.

It was black-and-white. Stay, and endanger Bruce, or leave, and keep both of them alive.


	12. Chapter 12: Danse Sauvage

Chapter 12: Danse Sauvage, by Ornstein

Caden's mind went into overdrive-it was almost like preparing for an approaching storm. She had a brief flash-back of when a blizzard had torn through Gotham and their power was out. Herself, her brother, and her mother all huddled together for warmth in her bedroom.

Then, they had been focused on survival. Right now, Caden was focused on leaving Gotham. Her existence put too many people in danger.

That's when it all snapped together. The final puzzle piece finally snapped into place.

That _fucking asshole. _

After Caden killed off some of her father's friends, he kidnapped Jill. He sent the Joker. It was his plan all along to kill her. He knew it would leave her with two options-one, stay in Gotham, and be the target of her father's carefully made connections or leave Gotham, where he could finally get her in his clutches and kill her himself.

She would _not _endanger Bruce. She would leave, and, when her father found her, put up one hell of a fight. Maybe she could get Jill free. No doubt he was keeping her with him-if she got to him, she could get Jill out. Then, she wouldn't care what happened to her. She would either kill her father in the battle that would surely ensue, or he would kill her.

And she'd have to be OK with that.

A person at the end of their line has few options. One with no strategy was left with even fewer. Bruce could easily find a way out of this mess-he'd let Jill go, defeat, but not kill, her father, and escape as the building conveniently caught on fire, or something like that. He'd plan ahead. Caden didn't know how. She would charge in, guns blazing (hopefully she'd have actual guns and that wouldn't just be a phrase) and do whatever she could.

Still…realizing that you had a 99.9% chance of death was terrifying.

There are no words to describe that feeling. No person could find a word extreme enough, no sentence horror-evoking enough, no paragraph even close to knowledge of dying. The word 'guilt' cannot even begin to describe what you feel as you think of things you could have done better. The word 'hopelessness' can't explain how trapped you feel. The word of 'appreciation' could never even convey how much you realize when your life is about to be taken.

Every little detail has extreme beauty, from worms wriggling in the ground to mud in a bog. Even bogs get a note of awe.

Then, there was the opportunities that you were leaving behind. Her dreams of becoming a performer? Gone. Her hopes of avenging her mother? Down the drain. Her chance of being more then just friends with Bruce? Evaporated, disappearing into the wind like dust. Finding Jill and staying around to help her? _Poof. _

It was all dust in the wind. Every minuscule nuance of herself, her life, her ambitions, vanished like sand slipping between fingers, blowing away to join the endless desert, lost forever.

As she walked out to the car, purse full of money, licenses, and personal objects, from necessities to mementos to her Addison's Disease and schizophrenia medicine, tears slipped from her eyes. This was it. End of the line. End of the long wait for the indoor roller-coaster. End of her life.

_ The End. _

She let her strangled sobs escape her throat. She didn't feel ashamed of them for a change. It was like crying at a funeral-weeping over the loss of life. She was weeping over a loss of life-hers.

She walked out to the car, her control just a thread away from completely breaking and letting her fall to her knees and sob in that position until daylight came. Hell, that idea ran through her mind for a moment. Just go inside, lay down on the bed, and cry relentlessly, not sleeping or eating or drinking or taking her medicine, until her _fucking Addison's Disease_ and _schizophrenia_ tortured her to death. Her death wouldn't be as painful as her father would make it, and she'd endanger no one. She wouldn't have to face what horrors lay beyond Gotham, only the dysfunction of her mind and body.

But, _god fucking damn it, _she would never let that happen. What would her mother think of her? Bruce? Jill? Her father? She didn't care about his opinion, but when he'd hear she died because of a fucking mental disorder and disease, he would laugh and think her as much of a disgrace as her mother.

He deserved to die slowly. Jill needed to be freed. The goal was established. The effects of that goal was also clear-Jill would probably die, and that monster would continue to live and kill other innocents. That was all she needed-a clear goal and stakes.

She swallowed down her sobs, flung the door open, slammed it shut, and shoved the key in. Her movements were jerky with anger and quick with determination. Was this how Batman felt every night, with the comfort of having a clear, set objective? It was oddly comforting to know her target. It gave her a duty, a purpose, like a spy or a super-hero.

After backing out of the parking space, she activated her lead-foot powers. They gave her great speed and road-rage. She was…CARWOMAN!

No…that made her sound like a female _Transformer. _

She laughed to herself. It was more an attempt to make noise in the small, compact, car then release happiness. She tried turning on the radio, and flipped through the channels. Repetitious pop music about partying was like listening to Mozart after 10 Redbulls in her current situation. Sure, if she found the right piece, it would work, but she doubted she'd find a good song by Ke$ha or Mozart on the radio.

Next was a rap song with lyrics she could hardly decipher. She caught many curses, 'shawtys's, and slang words. She turned the channel real quick. A rock station-it would have worked if the songs playing weren't about ex-girlfriends, sexual exploits, or hating life and the government.

She sighed and turned off the radio. Nobody should write a song about dying.

As she sped through Gotham, she was too busy on her internal conflict to notice the car following her. It wasn't really a 'car.' It was a large van, painted black, with bullet-holes in it.

That really cost her when the car purposely slammed into the back of hers.

The world spun around her, leaving her helpless as the car veered off the side of the road. They were in one of the Gotham's less populated area-a section of highway few people used that was covered by a bridge. The inky blackness was the only thing she saw. Her neck screamed in pain and her arm felt as if it had been ripped apart. The shocking pain combined with the fear of what occurred formed a deadly poison, one that left her speechless and thoughtless.

She let her eyes drift shut, tired after hours awake. She only groaned in pain as arms wrapped around her body and pulled her out of the vehicle. She nearly gone when she felt the sting on a needle on her arm, and a strong mist in her face. She didn't even cough-she was already unconscious.


	13. Chapter 13: Three Moods

Chapter 13: Three Moods, by Ornstein

Caden had been sedated before. At Arkham, during her first few nights, she was plagued by nightmares and visions. They sedated her, and she fell right to sleep. Although the feeling of helplessness as you slip under the waves on unconsciousness is always unpleasant, the worst part by far is waking up.

The first few moments is pure confusion. You're never quite sure where you are, who you are, and which way is up or down. The world swims around you, an illegible chaos of colors and sounds. As your eyes regain their focus, you try to remember what happened. In Caden's situation, she was staring up at the ceiling of a van, listening to the sound of wheels moving too-quickly over pavement, and was being thrown around by the bumping of the vehicle.

_She…remembered her car…she was driving…where?_

_She was…leaving Gotham. Why?_

_She couldn't remember exactly why, but it had something to do with her father…_

_Wait. Her car crashed. Someone hit her._

_How'd she end up here?_

_Oh…shit. _

She opened her eyes and looked around the van for a moment. She was in the back, but there was no seats, only a large empty space. Guns and explosives lay around her. It was eerily quiet, despite the six people in the car.

She lifted herself up for a closer look. While trying to push herself up with her hands, she realized they were bound with rope that was tied too tight. She tried moving her wrists, but it only rubbed her skin raw. She inside kneeled on her knees and took in her surroundings.

There was only two seats-front seats. She couldn't see the drivers. In the back were four others-three with clown masks. The last one didn't need a mask-it had been firmly painted on his face.

When she first saw him, she felt what most people probably felt-a mixture of fear, hatred, disgust, horror, and interest. The effect was lessened the second time she saw him, but still there. This time? All she felt was conflicted. She wanted to ask him if he was working with his father, if he could possibly know where Jill was, and see if she could get him on her side. Her father was cursed with TAD, Terminal Asshole Disorder-she could sway people to get on her side if they hated him enough. She wanted to know why the hell he had captured her and what he planned to do with her.

At the same time, she didn't want to know what he had planned for her, the awful things her father told him to do, what horrible conditions Jill was in or what palace and throne her father was sitting in. She just wanted to get out.

But people don't always get what they want, do they?

"Um…good morning." Caden said with a smile. One of the clowns looked at her and tapped on the Joker's shoulder. "If you're taking me to my father, don't worry, that was where I was heading." She interrupted him before he could say something crazy or creepy. "Saves me money on gas. And car repairs. That reminds me, why exactly did you hit my car?"

"You…didn't have fun?" The Joker asked, holding back laughter.

"Can you just tell me where the hell you're taking me?"

"To your father." A warped voice said from the front seat. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, like from a forgotten nightmare.

"You're working for my father?" she raised an eyebrow at the Joker. She already knew that, but he didn't know that she did. Anything to gain just a little ground.

"Not me, sweetheart. I'm just along for the ride, but the doctor…" he shrugged.

"And who is 'the doctor'?"

"Scarecrow." The warped voice answered. Holy shit.

She remembered what he did-he created the fucking Fear Toxin that nearly destroyed Gotham. Thankfully, she didn't get hit with it, but when she saw the people that did…

It gave her nightmares. And now, she was in a car with him.

"Where _specifically _are you taking me?" she asked again. "Is my father in some foreign country, or secretly operating under a pre-school?" The Joker began to cackle.

"No, but that's a good idea…"

"If you go anywhere close to a pre-school, I'll-," she was interrupted by Scarecrow.

"He's at a warehouse in the Narrows."

"Good. If he were under a pre-school, I'd have to pull him apart piece-by-piece." Caden had a protective nature over children and animals. Even though all the children she met took a disliking to her and sunk away, she still cared for them.

"You sound like fun." The Joker purred sarcastically. She fell into a silence, glaring at the men who had captured her and thinking up ways she'd kill her father to pass the time. To most, that would sound crazy. Hell, she was crazy.

What _if _somehow, her father was reading her thoughts and knew what she was planning?

_Shit! _She screamed at herself. _Stop thinking-blank your mind. Don't let him know anything! _

_did…did that wall just move?_

Caden hissed as the brakes slammed. She was thrown out of her kneeling position and landed on her side. She felt it in her ribs. Her loud groan of pain went unnoticed. The others had already exited the car. Joker came around to the back and opened the door.

"Showtime!" he said with a large, goofy, but terrifying grin. Caden crawled out of the car, making sure she didn't stumble. Falling flat on her face was not something she wanted to do.

Wait…her hands are bound…how is she supposed to kill her father if her hands are tied?

_Her knife. _

She had stuffed it in the back pocket of her pants. Had they removed it?

She reached into her pocket-Aha! There it was. She pulled it out of her pocket and hid it up her sleeve while they led her inside the warehouse. Now, if she could get in a position where she could weaken the ropes-not cut them off, as that would be too obvious-and get them to the point where she could rip them away and attack, it would be perfect. She'd cut the ropes until they were barely there, and when she got the chance, she would tear free and dig the knife into her father's chest. Perfect!

Now…she just has to make sure she can get to that position.

_Let's hope this works…_

Once she was inside the warehouse, she realized that the others had disappeared. The only two people there was the Joker and herself.

Why would her father, who apparently worked with many of Gotham's "super-criminals," make his home in a warehouse for numerous years…?

_Fuck._

A stabbing pain at her shoulder answered her question right away. Damn, did she just get hit with a bat?

Another strike answered her question. She fell to her knees, tremors jolting through her body from the impact, and felt ripping flesh. The Joker was attacking her with a crowbar-a very sharp one.

_ Good God! _She had never felt pain like that! Oh…_God, _the back of her shirt already felt sticky with blood.

"Wh-..where is my father?" she was able to force out, just barely, through heavy breathing and grunts of pain.

"Aww. Am I not good enough for you? You're hurting my feelings." He began that torturous evil laugh, one that sent Caden into a hellish dimension of fear, terror, anger, and desperation. Then, still laughing, he brought the crowbar down on her back again, making another cut that slashed through the first two.

Despite every promise to herself that she wouldn't scream or cry or yell when in this situation, Caden cried out in pain.

God damn it, she wouldn't sob. She would try to fight him. That's better then dying on the ground, screeching like an animal.

She took a deep breath, gathered her strength, and tried to stand up. It was difficult, using only her legs, but she was able to get into a kneeling position. In a desperate attempt, she pulled the knife out and struggled to cut the rope. She didn't know quite how far she got when the Joker swung at her hands, this time with a baseball bat.

Her bones crunched-she felt more then she heard it. She especially felt it as the pain screamed and sang in her veins.

Thankfully, it was only that single flash of extreme pain-then, a stranger feeling replaced the pain, a feeling like sandpaper. She still couldn't move her left hand now, and it felt like she jammed two of the fingers on her right head. At least she still had her legs.

_That might not last long, though._

After realizing that her knife was gone, her only option was to escape. Crawling forward on her knees did not sound productive or pleasurable.

Wait…she might have a chance if the knife-

_**THWACK!**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>!<strong>_

_ Shit, I just got knocked out. How long? It only seems like a few seconds-I'm in the same place I was before. No way I was out more then a minu-_

_Holy shit…is that a tooth? _

_Oh…oh, fuck. One of my molars is on the ground. Lovely._

_OH…GOD…my head! How hard did that fucker-_

_**BANG!**_

_**CRUUUUNCH!**_

_Fuuuck! Oh, dear God, my leg… What was I thinking about before-?_

_THE ROPE. _

Using the last bit of strength Caden had left in her, and jerked her hands apart, severing the thin strand that her knife thankfully created. With the ropes free, she could get away.

Well…she could if her leg wasn't broken. Instead, she crawled forward, trying not to move her right leg. It created little progress-little enough that the Joker could walk around her, press the small button on his shoe that caused the knives to slide out, and kick her straight in the face. Thankfully, she was able to dunk just enough that the attack only made a large cut on the top of her head and make her roll over onto her back, which caused dirt, dust, and broken glass (likely from the original break-in) to dig in the cuts she already sustained.

She began to feel light-headed. The immense pain was getting to her, and she lost too much blood. The bones in her hand and her leg were broken, smashed to bits by the Joker. Now, even with the rope cut away, she was still trapped. She could hardly move and was helpless.

Even though she already knew she would die that night, it was still an experience no person should go through with. In movies, they somehow made it look glamorous. After being nearly beaten to death, the hero rises and defeats the villain climatically, thus ending the entire conflict.

Caden didn't want to have to do any of that. She just wanted to go to the damn hospital, stop all the damn pain, and go home. Sleep would be amazing.

But the worst part of dying was dying like _this, _helpless and bleeding and broken. But what choice did she have now? A few minutes (seconds?) ago, she probably could have gotten away. Now, she was SOL. Shit Out of Luck.

"Fucker." She hissed, staring up at him. He only laughed. "**GOD DAMN IT, STOP LAUGHING LIKE A FUCKING MANIAC!" **she screamed. Wow. Even with her leg broken, she still had it in her to yell. "It may look good on the movie screen, _clown, _but in real life? It just makes people think you're crazy."

"I'm not crazy." His face went completely blank. _Hmm, is that a weakness I smell? _

"Yes, you are. Beating people to a pulp in warehouses is pretty damn crazy."

"I'm not-**T **crazy. I'm **not." **It was Caden's turn to laugh now.

"Yes, you _are._" _Good, Caden, stall him until you die of blood loss…_ "Also, working for a man that is only using you to get back at his damn daughter is crazy. Don't you agree?"

"Hmm. Maybe you're right." He paused to think about it. "Nah." He put his foot over Caden's neck, putting a small amount of pressure on it. She still struggled to get enough air-but she knew what he was going to do. He wasn't going to suffocate her-he was going to slit her throat with the knife that was just centimeters away.

_Wow. Death by foot. _

_Go on. Get it over with. Don't leave us in suspense. _

"Are you going to kill me, or just stare at me like a mindless cow?" she growled, her voice scratchy and gruff. He lifted his foot to where the knife was right on her throat. The chill of cold, sharp metal at her neck reminded her of walking barefoot in snow. Well…at least now she can imagine she died of frostbite instead of at the Joker's hands (or is it feet?)

And then…a miracle happened.

_(swish)_

_Holy shit. Where was he all this time?_

Oh…God…the loss of blood was catching up with her. Her eyes were already closing. She forced them open only long enough to see a dark figure with a cape billowing behind him.

And with that, she let her eyes close. She wasn't sure if it would be for the last time, but damn, it felt good.

* * *

><p>Caden awoke later (thankfully) lying in a hospital bed. She knew it was a hospital for three reasons-1, the blinding white lights, 2, the strong smell of cleanliness, and 3, the fact that the only other place she could be in was Heaven or Hell or whatever people went after they die. Caden never put much thought towards it.<p>

The bed actually felt comfortable under her-after nearly dying on hard, cold ground and broken glass, a concrete block would be comfortable. She knew she couldn't move her leg ahead of time-it was covered in a cast and being held up by one of Gotham General's numerous little contraptions. Her hand was also in a cast. Well...she wouldn't be playing the clarinet or piano a while.

She wondered how many stitches she had. Or bruises. Or brain damage.

She tried to sit up. She was hindered by her leg and wasn't able to lift herself up any great distance. At least the bed was angled upward, like she was sitting on a sofa. As she looked around the room, she realized that this was the 2nd time she had waken up in a hospital in less then 2 years. Lovely. Fucking lovely.

_Oh...God...I almost died._

It hit her like a freight train-last night, or however long ago it was, she was getting beaten to death by the Joker. The events before seemed a little fuzzy, but what happened in that warehouse was even more vivid then the memories of her mother's death.

Batman (Bruce) had saved her. She smiled. Despite having almost died, the thought that Bruce (Batman) rescued her made her a little...giddy, like she was in a fairy tale. She even giggled to herself.

"Only you can laugh after nearly dying." A tired, faraway voice said from the other corner of the room. And then, right on cue, was her savior, Bruce (Batman.)

"Bruce..." She was smiling like an idiot now. Who cares? She can plead brain damage later. "How'd you know where to find me?" Of course, she didn't mean find her at the hospital.

"I tried calling you after you left." he walked closer, now right by the bed. He was a welcome sight-Batman had some sort of appeal, but right now, Bruce was like an angel. "When you didn't pick up, I decided to swing by." he smiled softly at his little pun. "And when you weren't there..."

"You went looking for me?"

"Let's just say the Joker isn't one for subtly."

"...my car is still wrecked on the side of the road, isn't it?" Caden sighed. "Lovely."

"I'll tell the nurse you're awake. You probably want out of here."

"Actually, this isn't too bad compared to a warehouse floor." she shrugged. "But yes. All I want to do right now is put my Spongebob pajama pants on, drink a Dr. Pepper and go to sleep in my own bed."

"I'll try to get you there." he answered with a smile. He walked out of the room for a moment and returned with a doctor, a nurse, and, shockingly, a police officer. The nurse was, yet again, a very beautiful looking young woman. Figures.

"Do you know what happened?" The doctor asked her as Bruce stepped onto the sidelines and sat in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs.

"The Joker and Scarecrow kidnapped me, took me to a warehouse, and the Joker beat me to a pulp." The words flooded out of her mouth. She left out a few minor details (like the fact that her father hired them to kill her) but they didn't need to know those. Well...the police officer might need to know, but she'd never tell.

"Um...anyways, your leg and 12 of the 27 bones in your left hand are broken. You also had many wounds on your back and head-which we stitched up-and _lots _of bruises."

"Well...at least I didn't die." Caden said hopefully.

"Police Commissioner Gordon will be asking you a few questions." the doctor said quickly before scuttling out of the room, like a frightened animal. "Wimp..." she whispered under her breath.

When the policemen came forward, she was immediately worried. He would probably figure out that she killed people and was going to kill her father and he'd lock her up in a padded room where she would rot and-

"This is Jim Gordon." Bruce interrupted with a smile on his face. "He's a friend-you can trust him."

"Yeah. Ok." she nodded nervously. Did he mean that he wouldn't judge her for what happened or what she was going to do? Or that he knew she killed those people and didn't care? Or that he wouldn't care if she told him? Or that he'd put her in the nicest padded room he could find?

He sat on the edge of her bed. It was hard not to trust him-he had a deep, caring look in his eyes and reminded her Jill's dad; clean and nice and bright. "I'm going to ask you a few questions about what happened. Is that alright?" she nodded quickly. "Can you tell us who kidnapped you?"

"The Joker, Scarecrow, and a few goons." she answered once more too quickly. Did he believe her?

"Do you know why they took you?"

"I don't know. I think they're just crazy." she snapped. Bruce nudged her arm and gave her a look.

"Gordon, can anyone hear us?" he asked.

"Unless they have their ears pressed to the door, the security cameras don't have sound."

"They have security cameras in a hospital?" Caden raised an eyebrow.

"And you know that they don't have sound how?" said Bruce.

"There's been crimes in every corner of Gotham-even hospitals." he shrugged. "What were you going to say?" Bruce turned to Caden with a look in his eyes that made her ashamed of herself-the care in his hazel eyes shouldn't be for her.

"Don't worry about them tracking you, or finding you. These cameras are made by Wayne Enterprises; completely hack-proof. If you tell him, he will be the only one to know."

"Fine." she sighed. "Look, my mother was murdered a while ago. I know my father was responsible-and I also know he wants to kill me too. The Joker tempted me with the knowledge of where my father was in exchange for me to pretend to be a hostage and shoot my rescuer-Batman, apparently-when he untied me. I, of course, didn't and the Joker attacked. Batman was shot before we got out of there. I got the bullet out of him and-,"

"Wait." Gordon interrupted for what seemed like the 50th time. "You...dug the bullet out of him?"

"Well I couldn't take him to the hospital. Here you go here's one of Gotham's most wanted! Save the vigilante before you turn him into the police!" she laughed to show she wasn't being sardonic-she didn't want Gordon to feel like an idiot. She had numerous times, and it's not a fun experience. "Anyway, I went to see Bruce, and told him what happened. Then, on my way home, their slammed into my car, sedated me, took me to the warehouse and..." she didn't think she had to complete the sentence.

"Well that's quite a story." he shook his head in disbelief. "We'll try to track them down-until then, you need to be under police protection."

"She can stay with me, Gordon." Bruce said.

"Again, Bruce? Miss me?" she laughed to herself. No one else did. "Yeah...I guess the highest room of the tallest tower will be fitting."

"Until we find him, there's not much we can do." Gordon admitted with a sorrowful look on his face. "I'm sorry this happened."

"Ask anyone how stupid I can be. In high school, I was unofficially voted 'Most Likely To Die At A Young Age'."

"They really voted on that?" Bruce narrowed his eyes.

"_Unofficially. _They had their secret little...election, from Biggest Nerd to Biggest D-,"

"Yeah, you can stop there."

"I was going to say Biggest Douchebag: what were _you_ thinking of, Bruce?" she snickered. "So the battle plan is to move in with Bruce and hire a dragon to protect me?"

"That might be fun." Bruce shrugged.

"Bruce, I'm going to be living with you for a while-don't instigate a war. I always win."

"You've never fought _me _before." he threatened with an impish smile.

"WAR INSTIGATED!" she yelled before picking up the hospital pillow and chucking it at his face. He, of course, dodged it as skillfully as someone would dodge a bullet. For a precious and single moment, everyone in that room was smiling.


	14. Chapter 14: The Witches Sabbath

Chapter 14: The Witches Sabbath

"Now, how about you tell me why you _really _ran off?" Bruce asked the very second they set foot in the Wayne Tower penthouse. It was exactly how she remembered, gleaming and perfect and almost dream-like, but it was somehow different. She wasn't bunking with him until she found a place of her own, sponging off of him like a leech. He was moving her in with him to protect her, something that was foreign to Caden. The only person that ever protected her was her mother-her father wanted to kill her and her brother couldn't care less. Jill, of course, would protect her with her life, but it always seems like Caden was protecting _her_ from jerks and killer ex-boyfriends and what not.

Now, she was being protected, by Bruce Wayne of all people. She didn't know how to react.

She did, however, know how to react to Bruce's question-tell him the truth.

"Look, Bruce-you got shot the other night for my sake, and that was only the beginning. My father would do anything to kill me-and you, of course, would come to my rescue instead of letting me die. I can't let that continue." She paused for a moment, unsure about what she should say next. Even though he needed to hear it, a sense of dread washed over her before opening her mouth and forcing it out. "Besides-if I could find my father, and kill him, then…my life would mean something."

"Caden, you don't need to be sticking your neck out for my sake. I can take care of myself."

"So can I."

"Really? You almost died-you would have died if I wasn't there." Bruce said the words with a sort of sincerity that one wouldn't imagine just from reading it.

"So what if I die? I almost escaped him-if he didn't break my damn leg, I could have gotten away. I got the ropes undone. If you could teach me some of that magic kung-fu you do-,"

"Wait…magic kung-fu?" He let a chuckle escape his lips, despite the situation.

"What, is it magic ninjitsu?" she shrugged. "Anyway, if I die, hopefully I take my father down with me."

"And what if there's someone who _doesn't _want you to die? You know…like me, your mother, _Jill.." _

Caden let that sink in before she responded. Mental-grenade. _Bam! _

"You fucking…" she struggled for a word. "…fucker." She tried to say it in that endearing way Bruce would be able to, but it came out wrong. He would use the status of the still-missing Jill to keep her in her place. _That devious little…_

"…fucking fucker?" he asked.

"Hey! It's difficult insulting Prince Charming. You try it."

"…Prince Charming?" _Muhahaha…there's a little mind-game for you, Bruce-y. Now that you're distracted and flattered…_

"Precisely. Now, how about we drop this? It's midnight." She had just realized the time as she drove home in Bruce's car-and she didn't realize that until they were 5 minutes from Wayne Tower.

"Not until you promise me you won't run off at night." He latched onto her wrist, clamping her wrist in iron. "I'm serious."

"I won't. You have my word-I won't try any daring escapes until you hire a fire-breathing dragon."

He smirked. "What's with all of the fairy-tale references tonight?"

"I think it's a combination of the brain damage and the schizo-OH…_shit…" _ Her eyes grew wide. "I went for two days without the medication for my schizophrenia or Addison's Disease." _Fuuuuuuuuuuuck, how could I forget that? Oh, and now I sound like an old fucking lady talking about her various diseases and (mental) conditions…_

"I told the doctors what you needed-they gave it to you through an IV. You'll be fine until morning-I"m sorry I forgot to get it from your house."

"If I start puking blood, I'm blaming you." She threatened with a wink.

"I'm sure you'll be fine-until you start talking to the walls."

"They can be very talkative sometimes." She said before yawning. "Now, I am going to _sleep _in a normal _bed…_I might not see you until late afternoon."

"Do you need anything?" he asked.

"I'm dying of thirst, but besides that…I'm good." She sleepily began to wander into the kitchen in search of liquid-she would drink jelly if she had to. Her mouth felt like sandpaper and every time she swallowed her throat screamed in agony. Thankfully, she wasn't degraded to jelly. Bottles of water waited for her in fridge. Greedily chugging it down, she emptied the entire bottle in one long swig. The sound of the plastic crinkling reminded her faintly of her childhood, when her and her mother would sit outside in the grass in summer drinking bottled water. After stumbling back to the room, she smiled at Bruce.

"Bruce…thanks. For everything." She knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to say: _"If it wasn't for you, I'd be dead a long time ago. I owe a lot to you-and I just don't know how to accept that." _ She knew exactly how she would say it and word it, but her mouth failed to comply. Something stopped her from speaking her mind, and that had never happened to her.

Was it…nervousness? No. The light, fluttering feeling in her stomach was a feeling she had read and heard about many times, but had never experienced before-butterflies. She felt giddy and nervous and stuttered through her words.

"Of course." _He just had to smile, didn't he? Doesn't he see that I'm a train wreck?_ "If you need anything, don't be afraid to ask."

"I-I…ok. Night, Bruce." She sighed. She wished she could say some despicably charming thing, like in the movies. Life wasn't a movie, no matter how much she wished.

So, she scampered off to her room like a rodent. Funny how she thought of it as _her _room. It was the guest room, as immaculate and spotless as it was the first day she saw it. With a large, comfortable bed, a nightstand, a bathroom (_it's own freaking bathroom?) _and matching décor, it looked like a hotel room. Was that all this would be, a place to stay until she was safe? Or would it become more…? Caden didn't know. The feeling of not having the upper-hand was infuriating. In life, she had to have some sort of advantage. If she knew how her life would turn out, it would be so much easier.

Falling back on the bed, she remembered how comfortable it was, much more cozy then any bed she ever owned. She closed the door, stripped away her clothes, and crawled into the bed with no more then a bra and underwear on. She shivered at the feel of the cool, smooth blankets against her hot skin.

How she was tired after being passed out for two days, she didn't know. Maybe it was just an overall tiredness of life she would carry for the rest of her days. She hoped not.

Turning off the light, she sunk into the various blankets, resting her head against the lavish pillows. God-it was hard _not _to fall asleep in such a comfortable position. With little struggle, her eyes closed, and she was lulled into slumber.

* * *

><p>She opened her eyes late at night. She found herself staring at the ceiling-in the darkness, it was a deep shade of gray. There must have been something horribly interesting about it, because she couldn't stop watching it, like it was about to do a trick. Her mind was still dazed by grogginess-she saw the ceiling slowly change from deep gray to darker, and darker, and darker, until it was almost black, but it didn't fully register in her mind. Think of it like…counting a small about of objects, such as paperclips. You glance down, and you see that there's 4 in your hand-you automatically know it, and do not even need to think about it. Not even a single <em>Hmm…the ceiling is changing color <em>went through her mind. It simply was and required no thought.

The fog in her mind was quickly cleared, however. As she lay leisurely in the bed, calm and relaxed and horribly unsuspecting, she felt a long, cold finger traveling down her leg, like the cold edge of a knife gently stroking her skin. She stiffened and her eyes went wide. Completely paralyzed by fear, she couldn't muster enough courage to sit up. She could only sit vulnerably, shivering and tense and frightened.

She held her breath-she wanted to hear anything in the room that could tell her what exactly was happening. After what seemed like centuries, there was a cold breath on her neck, like frigid winter morning air after a fresh blanket of untouched snow. She began to shiver, her lips quivering. The cold fingers slowly trailed up her body, the number slowly increasing from one silver knife to what felt like a million icy fingers grabbing onto her.

_Oh, God, whatever is doing this, please, just hurry up and kill me if you have to-I can't stand this-_

A shrill scream broke through the night. Caden gasped and jumped-after the cry, her ears rang as the silence wrapped around her. Her heart beat with the ferocity of a million hooves trampling the ground.

Another scream jolted the air-but now, Caden saw what was screaming-no, not screaming...screeching, like an injured, crazed bird.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw an arm, long, black, and decayed. The fingers were only bone, making sharp talons, but the rest of the limb was covered in darken flesh wriggling with maggots. The smell of death reached Caden's nose, and the final puzzle piece came together in her mind.

_Oh, God, it's my dad came back from the dead, he's come to kill me, oh my god, he's going to kill me-_

A low, guttural noise sounded through the room, dominating the air like an alpha male. That single noise was enough to haunt Caden for the rest of her life-however, it also gave her the necessary courage to sit up and see just what was going on.

Sometimes desperation can be mistaken for courage. In a moment of pure recklessness, desperation can drive some to do not necessarily wrong but very careless acts. Caden's careless acts began when she sat up and stared into the eye sockets of a large, decaying, rotting, corpse.

It did not begin and end there-that single movement, when she decided to sit up and face her fears, was only the beginning of many more careless, desperate acts. Instead of staying the same position and waiting for it to end, she acted on pure desperation.

She _knew _she was looking at the corpse of he father. It did not occur to her that her father was very much alive. He was just there-she didn't have to think of it any more then the ceiling changing color or the number of paperclips-he was _there _and she needed to get away.

Before the first scream could escape her lips, her father clamped his hand over his mouth. She still shrieked, though muffled, as the mushy flesh touched her face, full of pus and dripping with a sticky fluid. The maggots squirmed against her lips as the smell of decay assaulted her senses. With his other hand, he clamped both of her wrists together. _Damn, how is a dead guy so strong?_

She screeched as she felt the maggots bite into her lips and face. Kicking and flailing her legs, she struggled against him, fighting hopelessly. He only stared at her, with those _god-damn empty eye-sockets, _and began to laugh. The laugh was husky and warped and horribly _evil, _like the laugh of demons. She cringed, letting frightened tears slip from her eyes.

Once more, desperation commanded her actions. She let her emotions and instincts become her captain. Wrapping a leg around the ghoul, she began to rock back and forth, like the rocking of a ship. The thing looked confused until they both rolled off the bed.

She didn't have the time to look at the splatters of pus on her arms, or at the gelatinous black fluid on her leg or even the maggots crawling on her. She only got up and ran, flying forward, not looking back.

Or…so she thought she was. Her plans were crushed as she slammed into the ground. _OW! _She forgot her broken leg and arm. Lovely-she could only make use of her left leg and right arm. She ignored the electric wave of horrid pain and noticed only the hand gripping her ankle. It felt like partially-melted plastic over iron. She howled, her shrill cry of terror flooding the penthouse.

Writhing and kicking and screaming, her only thought was that she had to get away from this evil creature. The sinking feeling in her gut, like quicksand, was the worst sensation anyone could feel, or ever feel. The indescribable panic and terror is something Caden wouldn't even wish upon her greatest enemies.

Her hands gripped the floor in a desperate attempt to pull herself away. Her entire body shook and she sobbed and screamed and wailed, _Oh…Dear…GOD! _She hated being in this state, this state of horror and terror and distress and dread and despair and-

"CADEN!" the thing screamed. It's voice was no longer warped, but that didn't stop her from crying and shrieking and thrashing.

Somehow, the hand disappeared, along with the entire body, and appeared by her side. Instead of a fiendish look, it now gazed down at her with what appeared the be concern. She tried to scramble away, but the monster grabbed her, pulling her into it's arms, crushing her to a putrid chest with the ribs sticking out. Now, it seemed even stronger, like her fear had made it even more powerful.

It gently set her on the bed, probably to get her into a more vulnerable position and sat down next to her. _Bad idea. _She swung to attack, planning to dig her nails into it's skin and scratch at it like a rabid cat, but it caught her by the wrist, gently yet firm.

"Caden! It's me! Bruce!" the thing pleaded.

"No, you're not!" she yelled twisting away. When she jerked her head away, she was blinded by sudden light. She whimpered as her eyes stung. As soon as her eyes came back into focus, she saw that the lamp was on. The thick darkness had been replaced. Holding her breath, she rolled over, and saw something that made her jump.

Bruce.

Deep green eyes locked with hers, full of worry and even fear. Not as extreme as the terror she felt moments ago, but more of a shocked fear.

She was hardly able to take an uncorrupted breath before breaking down. She couldn't hold back the tide of tears-she had absolutely nothing to cry about. In a movie or novel, the character would bounce back and realize it was only a dream. However, life wasn't a movie, and the human mind could take only so much before it broke. She didn't fight the barrage of sobs, only tried to hide her face.

Bruce, being the damn saint he is, put his arm around her and pulled her close to him. He slowly stroked her back, letting her cry on his shoulder.

Many people have experienced times when their emotions are so strong they cannot speak. Most people have laughed so hard they couldn't say a single world. Caden was crying so badly she couldn't speak. Nothing could come out. She decided to just wait until she could control herself. Gradually decreasing the volume and pain of the cries, she continuously reminded herself that the…_thing _was gone.

_Wait…that thing was my father…how?_

_It was just a dream…wasn't it? Please, __**please**__, __let it be only a dream!_

Eventually, she was able to speak. At least, she hoped she was. "I…I'm sorry. Just…hold me for a minute, ok?" Damn, she hated when she sounded so weak, but if she was left alone right now, what other demons could torment her?

"I will." He whispered in her ear. Thankfully, she wasn't crying anymore, but she was pretty sure she had a few screws loose, more so then she thought before. She didn't even hear the footsteps in the doorway.

"Master Wayne?" Alfred asked. God, it was good to hear Alfred's voice.

"I have this, Alfred." Bruce said. After a moment of hesitation, the footfalls slowly decreased, eventually disappearing in the maze of Wayne Manor.

"I am **so **sorry about this, Bruce." Caden blushed.

"Sorry? What's there to be sorry about? When I heard you screaming…"

"Oh…God…wow." She sighed as she let herself fall against the bed. She jumped when she felt her bare skin touch the fabric. "_Shit." _She was still in her bra and underwear, wasn't she? She immediately pulled the covers over her. "Sorry about that…" he only chuckled.

"I wasn't looking. What exactly happened…?"

"Do you really want to know?" She wished she didn't know. He nodded. "Alright…well, I woke up a while ago, I don't know when. The ceiling started to change color-I think then entire room did. Everything was pure black. All I could see was a rough outline of some objects. Then…there was cold fingers and breath…and, then, I saw this…_corpse. _Somehow, I think it was my father…but that couldn't be. He's alive. I don't really know. He clamped his hand over my mouth and restrained me. I rolled over onto the floor, and tried to get away, and he grabbed my ankle…but he disappeared. It was like he just teleported-he was then at my side, picking me up, and putting me on the bed. Then, when I woke up, there was light…and you. One fucked up dream, huh?" He bit his lip. Oh…_fuck. _"It…wasn't a dream, was it?"

"Your eyes were open the entire time." He mentioned as he spread out on the bed, holding himself up by his elbow.

"It…must have been…an hallucination." Wonderful. She thought she had gotten past this-apparently, she still suffered from it. "Fucking schizophrenia."

"Are you OK? Need anything?" Caden shook her head almost solemnly.

"Just…stay for a few minutes, alright? That's all I need. As long as you don't mind my half-nudity." She smiled. He shook his head and pulled her close, draping an arm around her waist. "It was you, wasn't it? Who lifted me off the ground and put me on the bed? And I was just seeing you as a decaying corpse."

"I hope I don't look like a corpse." He smirked. She laughed-softly, but it was still a laugh. It felt good to laugh, to get the enormous weight off her chest.

"No…you don't." She grinned as she let herself relax. How wonderful it was to be unafraid. There was no pounding of her heart, or tensing of her muscles-only the softness of the bed under her and the amazing man beside her. She slowly inhaled, letting blissfully clear air fill her lungs, and exhaled, feeling every nook and cranny of her body unravel.

"I keep waiting for something to jump out at me-like a hand grabbing my ankle and pulling me under the bed. Like the boogeyman." She chuckled at herself. Her voice was quiet in the room, barely above a whisper.

"Don't worry-I had room fumigated for monsters last week." He smirked.

"Just not zombies, right?" she laughed before yawning. Even though once the light was turned off she would be too anxious to fall asleep, she was tired.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked. After a moment of contemplation she thought: _Hey, what the hell? _

"No. Stay." She said before reaching over to turn the light off. He nodded, something she could hardly see in the darkness. Rolling back over, she settled back into the covers and Bruce's arms. "Bruce…" she sighed. Throwing caution to air, she decided to tell him why she tried to leave. "I tried to leave because…well, because you were hurt. And...I felt responsible."

"You thought the world would be better off without you." He didn't say it like a question-he was completing her sentence.

"_Yes._ How did you…?"

"When the Joker was trying to get me to reveal myself, he was killing others. He promised that every day that Batman didn't show who he really was, people would die. He blew up a hospital-,"

"So that's why that asshole did that?" she interrupted. "Oh. Sorry. Continue."

"A close friend of mine, Rachel, died because of me. I thought that it would be better if I were dead-not just arrested, but _dead_."

"But it wouldn't be. It wouldn't stop the Joker." She blurted out before he realized his carefully laid plan.

"Exactly. If you were dead, you wouldn't help anybody."

"…word-ninja." She hissed.

"Word-ninja?"

"Exactly." She mocked. He put his fingers under her chin and forced her to look at him.

"I don't want you putting your life on the line for me."

"I'm sorry, Bruce-if I have to, I will." If it came down to it, she would jump in front of a speeding bullet not just for him, but for any innocent. She might not act like she would, but she always promised herself that if any situation like that would occur, she _would _do it.

"No, you won't." he insisted.

"Whatever, Bruce. Think of life as…symbiotic relationships. Ours is mutual-not commansal." He gave her a look. "Hey-I paid attention in science class."

"Caden…" he warned.

"Look, Bruce-it's just who I am. I'd jump in front of a bullet for any innocent. Believe it or not, you'd do the same." _See, Bruce-y? I can make mental-grenades too, you sexy son of a bitch. _

"Yeah, but I have the hardened Kevlar plates over titanium-dipped tri-weave fibers."

"…um…what?"

"Ask Lucius." He shrugged.

"Well that hardened Kevlar-whatever didn't save you from _two _bullets." She sneered.

"Caden, please…I don't want you hurt."

"Fine, Bruce. Whatever you want." She tried to make it sound less sarcastic. She would just say yes to get him off her back. If it came down to it, she'd go against his orders. "And here I was trying to say something nice."

"What were you trying to say?"

"I was trying to say that…well…" she squirmed uncomfortably. She couldn't get the words out. "Shit." She sighed. "You make this too hard. And if you say 'make what hard,' I'll slap the shit out of you." _Well, Caden…it's now or never. _"I was trying to say, well…I-I-I'd die for you, Bruce." She held her breath as she waited for his response. "I-if you don't-," He pulled her closer and aggressively kissed her. Her heart fluttered and she could hardly breath, just like a god damn, love stuck, confused, moody, angry teenager. Moving their lips against each other, Caden finally felt as if she belonged somewhere. As a child, she could never make friends, except for Jill, of course. As a teenager, she was too different. As an adult, the only two people she had was Jill and her mother. Even then, she was still lost in a sea of people, confusion, and the poison of Gotham. She had no real place-but now, with Bruce, she finally felt that she had a place in this world. It only flickered inside her mind for the briefest of moments, and disappeared behind a film of uncertainty in her mind.

This was where she was supposed to be.

"Caden…" he said breathlessly, pulling away. "I don't care what problems you face. I don't care about your schizophrenia or your father. Just…stay."

"I will, Bruce." And that time, she meant it.

Even though her life wasn't perfect, even though she was crazy and stupid and reckless, even though her mother was dead and her best friend was missing, Bruce would be there for her. That thought, as imperfect and depressing as it seems, was her personal Heaven.


	15. Chapter 15: Adagio in G Minor

Chapter 15:

She awoke slowly, letting the sunlight filling the room gradually bring her back to consciousness. She was laying lazily on her back, Bruce partially on his stomach with an arm draped over her. She smiled to herself, perfectly content in the sunlit room. She basked in the beauty of it until, like a teenager oversleeping on Monday, she bolted upwards, shocking Bruce awake in the process.

"_Shit." _She hissed as she remembered her job at the Book Editing company, named after it's current owner, John Wellings. "My job. I bet it's lost now."

"I talked to the the guy-you have another week off."

"_A week?" _

"I _am _Bruce Wayne." He said with a smug smirk.

"How could I forget?" she sighed. "Thanks. Do you know how long I'll have to hobble around with this thing?" she asked, looking at the casts on her right arm and left leg.

"The arm should take about six weeks-the leg should take around 12 weeks." He admitted, biting him lip. She groaned loudly.

"Could you hand me the crutches?" she asked, pointing to the two leaning on the side of his bed.

"Why? Just…lay down for a few minutes." He smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her back to him, ever care of her broken bones. She couldn't help but feel slightly giddy-she wanted to avoid the term "butterflies" because it sounded so cliche, but it true.

Her heart was abnormally loud in the quiet room. It seemed almost angelic, with the sunlight streaming into the room, it's rays reaching every corner of the room in a spectacular display. The only sound was their heartbeats, and their breath. All time had stopped; the only thing Caden was concerned with was that moment in that room, in Bruce's arms.

After a few lazy and slow kisses, Caden decided it would be best to get up. Her hair was a wild and tangled mess and the thought of a hot, steaming shower was nearly as alluring as the man laying beside her.

Struggling to get out of the bed with the crutches, she saw Bruce smirking.

"Oh, so you enjoy my suffering?" she asked, chuckling.

"It's weird seeing you so…"

"Helpless?" she shrugged. "That's how I've always been Bruce-y."

"…Bruce-y?" He narrowed his eyes, confused.

"That's your new nickname." She said with an impish grin as she hobbled over to the bathroom, grabbing some clothes before she entered.

"Hmm…now how am I going to do this?" she asked to herself while looking at her leg and arm casts. Obviously, she couldn't have an _actual _shower. She'd probably have to angle the shower head at her body to wash it off. And wash her hair with one hand. Lovely.

After a long, difficult war with the shower head and casts, she stepped out of the shower, dripping and trying hard to not get water on the cast. She shivered at the cool air hitting her wet skin-damn, she wished she didn't get her ass beat by that stupid son of a-

There was a loud knock at the door that made her jump. "Hold on!" she called, quickly wrapping a towel around her and holding it awkwardly under her elbow. "Come in." Though she expected Bruce, it was only Alfred.

"Master Wayne would like to know if you want to go out for breakfast." He asked, his voice carrying that typical calm smoothness. Caden's voice often fluctuated and changed, whereas he had the makings of being a damn good voice actor.

"Sure." She nodded. Alfred left and she let the towel fall around her ankles. After drying her hair, which was a very difficult thing to do. She had to sit on the counter and used one arm, hoping she'd eventually get used to the struggle.

She hoped she looked decent as she pulled a loose pair of jeans over her cast and a dark green t-shirt over her arm. It was what she had been wearing the day of the "incident" and Alfred, being the saint he is, washed it for her.

She took a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom. For the first time in her life, she was _really _concerned about how she looked. Sure, she would make sure she looked nice, but in front of Bruce, she acted like a stuttering, clumsy idiot.

"Where are we going?" she asked. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for her.

"It's a surprise." He said devilishly. "So, how fun was it trying to shower with two broken limbs?"

"I've had more fun eating light bulbs." She sighed. "Anyway, at least now I can work on the muscles in my right arm. So, what's on the agenda for today? I kinda need to swing by my place and get some clothes…besides that, that only thing I can't do is rock climbing. Or any other thing that requires use of limbs." She shrugged.

After they ate breakfast (at Bob Evens, which caused some stir, but it was good to eat at a normal place for a change) and grabbed some of Caden's clothes, they weren't sure what to do. Bruce had taken the day off from Wayne Enterprises-they both had little to do. In the end, they rented a few movies and at some point ended up having a popcorn battle, in which they flung "righteous kernels of holy fire" at each other. Caden couldn't remember the time or the outcome-she was having too much fun with Bruce to even care about the outside world, or trivial matters such as time.

After what seemed like ages, Caden had her casts removed. She had been at work for 11 weeks with her casts and was sick of it. She was still at the very bottom too. She was a glorified errand boy (or is it girl?) She didn't really care about it, though. She was just doing it to have a paycheck-she didn't need to mooch off of Bruce _completely. _

Once her casts were removed, Bruce approached her and asked her to move in with him into his room. He had a perfectly good reason-some friends from out of town were visiting him and he needed a guest room for them to use. She remembered thinking _"Damn Bruce and his ulterior motives straight to Hell!" _but after a week of it, she loved it too much to leave.

Things were finally looking up. They had found leads on Jill. Caden was healed. She was with Bruce. Her job was…decent.

For the first time in far too long, Caden felt…hopeful about the future, instead of confused and fatalistic.

Maybe, just maybe…things will go back to normal. Only this time, it would be better.

She thought this as she stood in the living room, leaning against a door frame. She thought her face to be blank, but she was smiling like an idiot. Bruce appeared behind her and wrapped his arms around her stomach.

"What are you grinning about?" He whispered in her ear.

"It's just…things seem to be looking up." She beamed, but then doubt that always lay in the back of her mind consumed her. She turned to Bruce, the smile disappearing.

"Bruce…I have a…question."

"Yes?" Damn, he made it hard to admit bad things to him. That hopeful look in his eyes was worse then the maniacal look in Joker's-well, almost.

"What if…well, what if I can't handle my schizophrenia? What if I go as crazy as the Joker?"

"I won't let you." He admitted, his voice low and raspy but sincere.

"It won't be your choice."

"No, you aren't understanding." He brushed hair away from my face. "_I won't let you." _

"If I go crazy-like total mental case crazy, you will take me to a doctor, or Arkham, or…something, right? Last time, I didn't even know…"

"I promise that I'll take care of you." Of course, he didn't say _"Don't worry, I'll drag you to the looney bin while you yell at the flying avocado, honey!" _to be polite, but that was what she was wanting him to say, or at least something like it…he could leave out the part about the flying avocado. She didn't want it sugar-coated, though. She wanted him to say that if she goes crazy and starts screaming about the talking newspaper he would restrain her and drag her crazy ass back to Arkham and lock her up until she gets better, but Bruce was too nice to say that. Even though all Caden wanted was a promise that he would get her professional help if need be, it still made her feel slightly better that he would take care of her. For the longest of times, she had been utterly alone and relied only on herself. It was a strange but welcome feeling to be taken care of, something she hadn't felt since childhood, which now seemed only a distant and fleeting dream.

"Alright, Bruce. Thank you." She whispered.

In flickering firelight, Caden and Bruce sat on a couch in front of a fire place, bathed in the color of it. The air was still, quiet except for the crackling wood and softly playing classical music.

"What song is this?" he asked.

"Bruce Almighty doesn't know something?" she gasped.

"Very funny." he smiled in the dark. "What is it?"

"Adagio in G Minor, by Albinoni." She answered while fighting to not let the grin on her lips grow and twitch.

For a moment, they simply sat there, sipping white wine from sparkling glasses and listening to the piece of music. It had a certain underlying intensity, but it was soft and mellow; expressive. Absolutely the opposite of Caden, but it seemed to match Bruce. When comparing herself to music, she thought of herself as more...Toccata and Fugue.

It had been three months since she moved in. Now completely free of casts and hallucinations (thanks to the best schizophrenia medication money could buy) she could fully enjoy living with Bruce.

All wasn't well, though.

A week ago, she had been called into the police station. When they called, they didn't tell her why.

She was absolutely terrified. The worst came to her mind: somehow, they found all of the bodies and she would be charged with murder; or, even worse, they found the man who killed her mother. If the man was there...she couldn't hold back. Nothing would keep her from killing him, not even God himself. And then, as she brutally murdered a man in the middle of the station, they would arrest her and she'd be put away for life. Not only would she be torn from Bruce, his already precarious reputation would be ruined. She imagined the headline: 'Bruce Wayne's girlfriend guilty of murdering innocent man.' Of course, the man wouldn't be innocent in the slightest, but the tabloids just _loved _putting little twists in their stories.

Bruce wasn't there at the time. Dear _God_, that had been the worst moment ever-faced with a decision that could very well destroy not only your life but those you loved and being absolutely alone, with no one there to make over you and make you feel safer or show you sense.

But...she was ready to face justice. She would do it as best as she could. She really didn't want to go-she kept trying to find excuses to _not _go, but, as she began to fall back to her castle, she reminded herself that moats and draw-bridges and knights couldn't save her from her past.

She got in her car (her old one was saved-once more, something Bruce did for her that she couldn't repay) and drove as slowly as she could to the police station.

She tried to call Bruce. His phone was off.

She had no one else to run to. It was the end of the line.

As she drove, it was like tying her own noose. The sinking feeling in her stomach was worse then quicksand; it was a sinkhole that went straight into the hands of the devil.

It took every last bit of courage she had to step out of the car and into the police station. She had to keep reminding herself that this is what Bruce would want. She knew that if they didn't love each other, he would want her to turn herself in. Maybe he could find solace in the fact that justice was served.

As she stepped inside, she met the familiar face of Jim Gordon. She expected fury, maybe even disgust, to be in his eyes-but instead, she saw only sympathy and sorrow.

In that moment, no words came to her mind. The best way to describe it would be: ...?

"I am...very sorry Ms. Smithart." he jumped between looking into her eyes and looking away. She swallowed, decided to be a big girl, and said a strong: "About what?"

"We have almost positive proof that your friend Jill is dead."

And then...well, that was worse then being arrested for her past murders.

She knew this for a long time, but nothing could prepare her for _this. _

This was absolute devastation. The nothingness in her mind grew and evolved from confusion to pure shock.

She couldn't stand. Her legs gave out. Thankfully, there was a chair behind her, and Gordon helped her into it.

Speaking: impossible.

Thinking: halted.

Emotions: bursting like a ruptured blood vessel.

She sat there for a minute, gaping and blinking and speechless but she could stutter out: "How?"

"We found...remains. We did DNA tests. It was Jill."

"What kind of remains?"

"A single finger. We did fingerprints."

"It was just a finger." It was both a question and a statement. He nodded. Life flowed back into her. She sprung from the chair like a rocket, hands locking on his shoulders. "She could still be alive! If it was just a finger, she could still be alive!"

"It's probable...but please, don't get your hopes up. It's been a long time, Caden. Most detectives would have given up by now."

"Dear God..." her voice was shivering and shaking like it had a severe case of hypothermia. "No...not Jill...no...she can't be!" Her grip tightened. "She can't be dead!" Sobs began to strangle her voice, her eyes overflowing. "She...she can't be..."

"I'm very sorry, Caden. We've done all we could. Do you need someone to drive you home?"

"I can...drive." She answered, still crying.

"You don't seem fit to drive."

"I. Can. Drive."

"Please, don't endanger yourself. Bruce will be here soon-he can take you home and get your car later."

"Fine." she wasn't in the mood to argue. "Thanks, Gordon...for everything."

"Anytime, Caden." she looked up at him when he said this, shocked that someone she hardly knew could say such a...nice thing. She wasn't sure what to say.

The door burst open. Light entered the room for the briefest of seconds, puncturing the gloomy darkness. It disappeared just as fast, but was replaced by a different light-Bruce's never ending, loving light. And then, she had a sudden, scary thought: humans can't really give off light. They can only make darkness.

His eyes quickly searched the station before spotting me crumpled in a chair, tears rolling down my face and mouth gaping.

"Caden." he said as he breathed loudly. It seemed as if he ran here from China. I stood up as he sprinted towards me. Without a word, he pulled me into a tight embrace and began to stroke my hair. "I-,"

"No, Bruce. No." I sighed. "Don't say you're sorry. _Please._"

"What _can _I say?" He was absolutely right-there was nothing _to _say. _My best friend, whom I've known my entire life and has been missing for God knows how long, is almost confirmed dead... _The thought was strangely hollow in her mind, ringing and echoing, never quieting.

"Can we just...go home? Please?" She didn't care how really-she would jump over buildings if she had too.

"Of course." He kept a solid arm around her, as if she was handicapped and likely to collapse at any moment. It made her feel worse.

He had taken a cab there so they wouldn't worry about her car-Bruce looked kind of out of place driving a 1998 Honda, but she didn't get to enjoy it-and they returned home. Time passed strangely-it seemed to take forever, but once she was finally there, it seemed to pass in a second.

She didn't let him carry her in. She walked, although she was a mess, with her make-up smeared, hair wild, limbs weak, and legs stumbling. It was a struggle to hang on until she could limp to her bed. Bruce was worried, but gave her space-he knew her, and she wouldn't want to need someone to help her stand and hobble over to a bed.

When she finally got there, however, she curled up into a cocoon of blankets and sheets and sobbed into a pillow. Bruce settled next to her, holding her through the thick quilt, and just held her close.

As her cries changed from constant sobs to broken tears, Alfred came in with a cup of hot chocolate. After telling him he was a genius, she took the cocoa and began to sip it slowly. Bruce kept close, his eyes tense and alert. It may have been dangerous to be around a devastated schizophrenic, but he stayed by her side.

He stayed by her side through everything-not just through that week, but through everything else before. It finally struck her that Bruce loved her and would stand by her through anything.

Coming back to reality, she hoped he didn't see her crying in the darkness. He didn't, thankfully. He didn't need the worry.

She looked up at him and in his eyes she saw only concern, care, and love. It reminded her too much of a week ago.

She sat up and pulled away, sighing.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I just realized...that I'm completely dependent on you."

"No. You're not."

"Yes, I am." she leaned her elbows on her knees, sitting her wine glass on the table. "You've given me a home, saved my life, fixed my car...Hell, you've fixed my entire life. And what have I given you? Absolutely _nothing._"

"You think you have to give me something?"

"_Something._" She shrugged as she pushed hair from her face. His arm snaked around her waist.

"Then give me _you._"

"Unless you're making some innuendo, I have no clue how to do that. I can't just give myself up to someone." he fell into silence. She turned and looked at him, smiling. "That line didn't work as well as you thought, did it?" she smirked.

"I have plenty more lines that'll work."

"Is that a challenge I hear?" I leaned back into the sofa. "War. Continued."

"That reminds me..." he reached behind me, grabbed a pillow, and hit her on the side of the head with it.

"I will smother you with a blanket." She threatened. "I know where you sleep."

"I'd be concerned if you didn't." he quipped. She picked up the same pillow and slapped him across the face with it. Well...she tried to. His lightning fast arm shot up and deflected it. The thought _like a bullet _flashed in her head, but then she remembered that he didn't dodge them that well.

"No fair." she pouted. "You have the advantage. You're a ninja. What am I?"

"Extremely amazing?"

"Thank you. But that's not going to work on my, Brucey-Boy." She swung with the pillow again, and it collided perfectly with his face.

Perfect.


	16. Chapter 16: Greensleeves

**7 months pass in this chapter-every section is one month, basically. **

Chapter 16

**October**

"What do you_ do _all night?" She said, finally gathering the nerve. "I know that you kick criminals in the ass so hard they need physical therapy, but…do you just stand on a garoloyle and watch for crime, or is there some way you know, or…?"

"The street talks. I listen." He answered with a soft smile.

"Fine. Don't answer." She shrugged. It probably wasn't the best conversation to be had at that moment. Somehow, she convinced him to pull into McDonalds and get a McFlurry, partly because she wanted to see drive-thru guy's reaction when Bruce Wayne pulled up in a sports car. They were currently sitting in the parking lot, some song she wasn't paying attention to playing on the radio, with the heater blowing gently. It was late Fall; mid-October. That meant winter was coming.

Winter was actually her favorite season. Well…it was until after December. Then, it was just cold and boring. But before…there was something magical about it.

Summer used to be her favorite when she was in school. Now, she liked seeing the kids at play, but hated the heat, expect at that one time at twilight when it's cooling down and it feels like Spring normally does.

Why were they eating ice cream when it was chilly out? Who knows. It was the afternoon and it was in the mid-60's. It would get even cooler out at night.

Night. Sometimes, it was great…if she could stay awake until Bruce came back home. That was normally at about 3 in the morning. Does that still count as nighttime…?

"So, you heard about some…crime-ish thing and you just…go?"

"Sometimes, it's a bit more complicated. The rest of the time, it's even _less _complicated."

"You're good at dodging questions, aren't you?"

"I'm a master at the art." He chuckled, finishing the last of the McFlurry. "But let's save these questions until we're _out _of public."

"Let's talk about something mundane then." She tried to think of a topic. "What was your childhood like?" He shrugged. She immediately wished she could take that back.

"To me? It was horrible. To others? It wasn't so bad."

"How so?"

"Even though my parents…died, I still was a Wayne. I lived in a _mansion. _Of course, I didn't really care at the time; I had grown up in it and knew nothing else. But now…I've seen some bad situations for kids. My childhood wasn't as bad as I thought it was."

"Growing up is hard. For everyone." She hoped to lighten the moment. A smile crossed her face.

He was silent for a moment. "How about you?"

"Well, I had my mother and my brother and Jill. My dad was around some, but eventually he ran off. Joined the mob. Sent money to us every month, but never enough to get out of the not-so-nice part of Gotham. Growing up there…was difficult. If I went outside at the wrong night of night, or went to the wrong place…I wouldn't come back. But, I didn't have any deaths in the family like you. No real trauma. I suppose I had a better life then some of the kids in my neighborhood. I never went hungry and my parents didn't do drugs or drink enough to get drunk. My mother raised me a bit differently then some parents, but contary to what all those child psychologoists say, I grew up perfectly fine. I mean, I had my episodes, but those came _after _my mother died."

"What do you mean by 'raised a bit differently'?" Despite his words, he didn't sound suspisious, just curious.

"Well…how do I put it? She believed there were fine lines between everything. Ever seen a parent have a leesh on their kid? Well, if the parent was say, a single mom, with 5 kids, it makes since, but we saw a couple with one child that had to use the leesh-and it wasn't just a leesh. It was a halter, like the kind you get for dogs. There's a difference between the two, see? She knew how to parent me without going overboard. She didn't care if I had alcohol; _if _I was at home with her watching. She didn't care if I watched some violent TV show, as long as I didn't emulate it. She wasn't like some of the parents today. I reach some article in a newspaper; 3 Things You're Doing That Ruin Your Kid's Self-Esteem. One of them said that 'one shouldn't make your child give Grandma a kiss because it will teach them to use their body to make one happy.' Apparently, giving your grandparents a kiss changes you into a hooker." She tried to laugh. "They just go overboard. I'm rambling, aren't you?"

"I like listening to you. You've got an...interesting outlook on things."

"I guess." She shrugged before falling back into silence. She then remembered something she forgot to add. "Although…one good lesson to teach a girl-not a 7 year old, but once they're 18, is how to use their body to get what they want." He gave me a weird look. "I know how it sounds, but truthfully, if you pull your shirt down a little and smile, you can get anything. I think that's the only reason I got my job at the book editing company."

"Have you been using these evil tricks on me?"

"Probably, at some point." She gave a devilish smile. "Of course, all _you _have to do is take your shirt off. You can play The Game too, if you want. Trust me; you're a billionaire and _sexy. _You could get anything you want from any woman in this town."

"There's only one thing I want from one woman." That made her raise an eyebrow.

"Well then…you better get good at playing The Game."

**November**

"You know? Maybe I should practice my clarinet some more. Take some classes." She said while they were talking shortly after dinner. She had helped Alfred clean up-as well as cook, and in a few hours, Bruce would be gone for God knows how long. "Maybe, if I'm good enough, I can join the Symphony."

"You're probably _already _good enough. I've heard you play."

"Was I really that loud?" she asked, chuckling. "Well then, forte, you betray me at last. I was expecting it always."

"I'm sorry, I don't know much about music…"

"Forte is a dynamic; dynamic is, basically, how loud you play. Pianissimo is very quiet, piano is quiet, mezzo-piano is medium quiet, mezzo-forte is medium loud, forte is loud, and fortissimo is very loud. I've seen three _f's, _which is the symbol for forte, and I don't quite know what they name would be." She laughed at the memory. "Imagine an _entire _high school band playing loud enough to bust your ear drums. God, I loved that song! Loudest thing I've ever played. We worked on it for six months. I memorized all the parts for every instrument. I still remember it. High school is…not fun for anyone, but in that high school band was the only place I laughed, except when I was with Jill."

"Was Jill…your only friend?" Sorrow washed over her, choking her like salty black waters sweeping her under.

"I knew a few people that were 'friends' by dictionary definition. I never had anything to do with them outside of school. I probably said the wrong thing to them or their boyfriends and I never heard from them again. Jill was the only constant." She bit on her lip. Rage flared within her like a sun. It was hard to breathe, hard to even open her mouth. She felt…awake, sort of. Like she could do anything. Like she was strong. Was this how Bruce felt all the time, riding a wave of power?

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's OK." She reassured. Warmth bollusmed on her check.

"No, please don't cry…" he clasped his hand, which was cold and clammy from the McFlurry but soothing, and ran a thumb under her eye.

"I didn't even know I was." Her voice was shaky as she wiped the tear away. "I'm fine, Bruce, really."

"I don't want to leave you upset." His eyes burned her. God, it was torture. He cared so much…why? Did she even deserve him?

"I'm fine, really." She repeated, standing up and pulling her hand from him. "Really." She forced a smile at him.

"Lying to me doesn't work anymore. I can see right through you." Lightning fast, he grabbed her arm and pulled her back towards him. She didn't struggle, not even when he positioned her in front of him and made her look into his eyes.

"It's just…hard. But I'll get over it. I'll be OK." This time, her smile was genuine, and she thought he could tell. "Gotham, however, will not be. It's 9:30, Bruce. Time for you to get a move on."

"I can stay for a little while longer." He pulled her even closer.

"Bruce. Please. I'm not more important then Gotham." She wished he would understand. She didn't matter. He averted his eyes, sighing, but returned to look at her again.

"OK. OK, Caden." He pulled her even closer and kissed her.

Like normally, it shook her to her core. She had kissed a man before Bruce, but they weren't really _men. _Not like him. Red-hot need shot through her, the kind of which she had just started feeling recently. He was a real man, not pathetic little boys who concerned themselves only with what happened in their life. He was strong and powerful, but had a bone-deep care for her..She clung to him desperately, like a clown fish hiding in an anemone. Well, maybe not the best metaphor, but their relationship seemed less like two people who were blindly in love and came as a package and more like a symbiotic relationship between two animals; they bothed lived and breathed as separate beings but needed each other. They were almost of different species; he was brave and galliant and pure, while she was gritty and rough and crude.

Did Gotham really believe he was 'dark'? Sure, he was disguised as a bat and thrived in the night, but at his core he was purer and brighter then the full moon.

She moved with him even as he pulled away, following his lips, effectively pressing her body more against him. But, he had reach, which bested her flexibilty.

"Be careful, OK? I don't want to dig another bullet out of you." She smiled.

"I promise." He learned long ago that she wouldn't let him leave unless he promised.

And, like the perfect, amazing, great man he was, he always did.

**December**

"So, what started the whole masked super-criminal with a gimic thing? Like the Joker or Scarecrow?" She asked as they pulled on heavy winter coats. It was December, the month of joy, and Christmas was near. By 'near' she meant tomorrow. Bruce, to keep up apperances, was having some amazing Christmas party thing. Caden, of course, wanted to buy some beautiful dress with the money had been saving up from her job. She wasn't just sitting around with money. She insisted that she give money towards things-of course, that was Alfred's department. Bruce knew nothing about it. Eventually, Alfred gave up and stopped arguing.

"I'm a Bat, aren't I?" he said with a smirk.

"But why did _they _follow?"

"Maybe they just think it's fun. I dressed up as a bat, well, because…I'm scared of bats." Not meaning too, laughter came from her throat.

"But...you have bats flying around the Bat-Cave!"

"Well, yes, but…they still freak me out. I fell down a hole when I was a kid and there were bats _everywhere _and they all came flying at me at once…" he shuddered.

"Hey, my fear's _lame. _I'm terrified of bugs. Well, just bugs that make buzz-y noises. And beetles. Do beetles buzz?" she shivered. "There was a pool I used to go swimming at as a kid and one day there were these…_beetles _just swimming around in it. I tried to stay away from them, but I couldn't. About 10 of them got in my hair. I've been terrified ever since. But bats _eat _bugs don't they?"

"I'll kill them for you, but I don't think I'll _eat _them for you. Anything else but that." She laughed, this time unashamed. "We'll continue this enlightening converstation in the car."

They drove to downtown, taking a less conscipous car then the Lamborghini. It was difficult to work their way about people, but eventually they wound up in a dress store. She reached into the pocket of her jeans and clutched her wallet. $500. That should be more then enough.

The store was large, but most everything was on display. She came her to get her prom dress when she was in high school, actually. It wasn't a big-shot designer label store-it had clothes that the owner had made and nothing more. It had been around since her mother was born.

It took a while, but eventually she found the perfect thing.

It was light and silken, only reaching her knees and spinning when she spun. It was light blue and long-sleeved. In front of the mirror, she felt beautiful.

But Bruce made her feel beautiful even in sweatpants, so she didn't bask in the feeling.

**January**

January...the bane of her existence.

Well, not really the bane, but she _hated _January.

New Year's had been fun. Like always, Bruce had thrown one of his wild parties-slightly less people then the formal events like Christmas and much more alcohal-but, also like always, disappeared halfway through.

He told her he loved her right before he went. He'd been doing that a lot lately.

It…was a strange feeling. Not like when her mother said she loved her. Her head would spin and her heart would hammer. Liquid would pool in her and she felt as if she were slowly falling into a warm lake. She often had trouble stuttering "I love you, too" back.

She had gained much popularity with Bruce's friends; well, at least the male ones. The females…she didn't get along with. At the party, he left her alone after he introduced her to a group of girls, all her age and a million times as glamorous. They, of course, hounded her and didn't leave her alone until she disappeared into a group of men who let her partcipate in their politcal debate, which bored her but at least got her away from the women.

They were trying to find…something wrong with her. They were baiting her, goading her. Bringing up false rumors. Insulting her.

Her schizophrenia was a thing of the past. She was cured.

Hell, she knew it was impossible to be cured, but the last halluncination happened three months ago when she was so tired she thought Bruce was an alien.

Well, everyone's mistaken _someone _for an alien at some point in their life. Right?

She sat in the "ballroom" where the party was supposed to be held, but it quickly migrated to the rest of the house. She had just awoken after falling asleep, not from the alcohal, but from pure exhastion.

She had been sitting in one of the chairs, and had fallen asleep with her head on her hand. She can't remember when she fell asleep exactly.

Mostly everyone was already gone. Of course, the mess they left was still there. The only ones there were the few that also passed out.

She groaned, and tried to sit up. She immediately regretted it.

Her head screamed in pain, the headache stabbing her brain with every heartbeat. Her entire body was aching as well, a side-effect of the strange sleeping arrangement.

She looked at the window. It was barely light outside.

Releasing a disatisficed moan, her hands flew to her temples to massage them. No help.

Alright, if I can stumble to the bathroom, maybe I'll be able to find some Excedrin…

The "dress" she wore, which was a black little thing scavged from the corners of her closet, was relatively clean, but slightly wrinkled and had seen better days.

She caught a look of herself in a mirror as she passed it. Her dark brown hair, which she had recently lightened a shade, was wildly tousled and probably tangled to Hell. Most of the make-up had worn off and even smuged, making the skin around her eyes blacker then it was. Her lipstick had receeded to the edges of her mouth. She walked with a stiff limp and both hands on her head.

_Just find the bathroom, _she reminded herself.

Stumbling there, she steadied herself on the sink and searched for the magic bottle. She took two of the white pills, chugging them down with water, thinking about how Jack in The Shining chewed up Excedrin, and how awful it would taste.

Medicated, she hobbled back to the ballroom, and flopped down in a chair, looking at the mess. A watch on the wrist of a nearby sleeping partyer said it was 4:30 AM.

Time for Batman to arrive.

The room was trashed, furniture moved, garbage on the floor, various liquids making it a hazard. She could just imagine what the rest of the house would look like.

She'd change and help Alfred. He didn't even get to enjoy the party like she did.

She enjoyed it until Bruce was gone…_and when girls weren't glaring at me in envy, probably plotting the best way to separate us. _

No wonder they were single and looking.

She yawned, head still throbbing and protesting, and streched her arms, rolling her elbows.

She'd…wait until Bruce was here.

She was still tired. She probably didn't get much sleep. An hour, two hours at most.

Whatever. She'd drink some coffee and she'd be fine.

To pass the time, she tried to untangle her hair with her fingers and remove the black smudges from her face. She used the reflective floor as a mirror.

That was when she heard the magic noise; the elevator bell dinging in the next room.

"What happened here?" she heard Bruce ask himself. She laughed, and forced herself out of the chair.

Next to the ballroom was a smaller, more causal area. The elevator was there, and was the only thing untouched by the mess.

"If you give a human alcohal," she shrugged, quoting "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie."

Bruce's shocked expression softened at the sight of her and changing into a smile. She swooped in closer and pulled him into a hug.

"_Never _leave me alone with those crazy girls again!" she hissed into his shoulder. He chuckled and patted her hair.

"Trust me, they have no other excitement in their lives except pissing people off." He said before putting his fingers under her chin.

She remembered their first kiss in the parking lot of her old apartment building. Though it felt exactly that same as that time, that life seemed miles away.

He kissed her with all the passion he could muster after a hard night. They were both pretty wiped.

"You look tired." He noted as she led her to a couch to sit on.

"Give me coffee through a needle. Directly into my bloodstream." She acted it out as she said it. He groaned.

"Don't make me think about drugs…"

"I'm sad…uh, what happened?"

"_Scarecrow. _He's acting up again."

"That creepy guy?" she shivered. She had run into Johnathen Crane once a couple of years ago. They were at a subway terminal. He seemed in a rush and on edge, but they caught eyes once. It wasn't pleasant. His eyes were like ice, freezing her in her position. She was a hostage to his frozen gaze until he decided to look away.

"He's…up to something. I don't know what." He sighed. "So, I guess it's cleaning day."

"Well, for me it is. You just go lay down." She stood up, immediately missing the warmth of his body next to her, and shooed him away.

"I'm not as tired as I look." He reassured.

"No, no. Really. You weren't even here half of the time. Alfred and I will take care of it, I promise. You can work while I take a 12-hour nap afterwards." She snickered.

"Alright, Caden…you're too stubborn for your own good." He grabbed her by the waist, giving her a quick and definitely not chaste kiss before making his way to his room.

_Well, then…have I got a mess on my hands. _

**February**

"Valentine's Day? Really?" Caden scoffed, her arms crossed. She'd always hated Valentine's Day.

He was expecting her to celebrate it with him.

A romantic dinner. Some special surprise afterwards.

With Bruce? Anything is amazing. But…_Valentine's Day? Seriously? _

_Oh, well. He's adorable. I can't say no. _

"Pretty please?" he pleaded. It was an odd sight. He was dressed in a suit, and on one knee. When he first did that, it stopped her heart. She thought he was proposing.

_Ridiculous. _

He looked the same as everyday, but there was something…intense in his eyes. More so then she had ever seen.

It…kind of scared her.

And thrilled her.

She decided to give in. "Give me a few minutes." She said with a smile, disappearing to her room. The jeans and hoodie would have to go.

When Jill was…around, she often bought Caden tight, form-fitting clothes that, though looked good on her, didn't look…good. It was trashy, sort of. Recently, she had been wearing tighter things then usual, but…they didn't look like what Jill had bought her, and let's leave it at that.

The dress was deep red. She had taken to dresses recently.

After about 10 minutes, she was ready. Looking in the mirror, she had never looked better.

A red dress that hugged every curve (and, sadly, the slight flab on her stomach) was complimented by red lipstick and the red nail polish she had on earlier. Mascara covered her eyelashes, but no other make-up marred her apperance. She learned with the New Year's party. She did nothing with her hair. She didn't need to.

And Bruce looked at her like she was Aphrodite.

She blushed, which was something she didn't do often.

"You look beautiful." He beamed.

Bruce never said "sexy" like she often did, or "pretty" like she would say. He said richer words: "stunning," "beautiful," "gorgeous," …it made her giddy.

He gave her his hand, and led her to the elevator.

They were on the 78th floor. It was take a long time to get down.

Let's just say she had to reapply her lipstick.

And, strangely…she had the best night of her life.

**March**

_It's still fuckin' cold out?_

Of course, there were those days when it reached 65 degress, maybe higher.

Maybe.

But, she had lived in Gotham all her life. It was always cold there.

Life had calmed down. The big holiday season was over. The spring months would strech until summer.

And then it would be fall again. Then winter. Then spring.

She had watched the seasons change, but never realized how fast they went, or how meaningful each day had become.

Bruce…it dawned on her that, if things went her way…she could very well spend the rest of her springs, summers, falls, and winters with him.

Her heart swelled.

And dampened.

He'd been…differently lately. On edge. Jumpy. Still loving, but his tension was palpable. He stuttered, something he had never done. He seemed as if he was…hiding something. She'd walk into the room and his hands would fly to his pockets, shoving something in there.

Had something happened…with the crazies? Had one of them…affected him?

The rational part asked that. The irrational part asked:

What if he's planning to end…us?

No. She couldn't…survive without him now. She'd be stuck at Arkham for the rest of her life.

_Stop worrying. Bruce loves you._

But the thought gnawed at the back of her mind. Had Alfred been treating her different too, or was that just her brain playing tricks on her?

Truthfully, she didn't know what he was planning.

And it…scared her.

And did _not _thrill her.

*I doubt it, but if any of you happen to play Mass Effect, this line's for you : )


	17. Chapter 17: Raindrops

Chapter 17:

"Bruce! Where are you going?" Caden asked, grabbing his elbow on his way out the door. The door was barely open.

"Just getting some things from the store." He answered causally, waiting for her to let go of his elbow.

"Let me come with you." She smiled. She was baiting him, she knew, but…

What if he was…you know, cheating? Bruce would _never _do that, _ever, _and this she knew, but it would make her feel better…

"No, you don't need to, I'll be right back." He insisted. _Shit. _Her heart sank.

No, no, no, no, no…Bruce couldn't—

Wouldn't—

Never—

If—

But—

Would—

How—

_Deep breaths, Caden. Deep breaths. _

"No, I want to come." She said just as stubborn as he.

"Really, I'll only be a few minutes." He was subtly trying to get out of her grasp, looking at her, pleading with his eyes.

"No, I insist." She forced a fake grin.

"I'm sure Alfred needs help with something."

"No, he doesn't. Let me go with you." The forced-humor was gone from her voice. It was clear she was dead serious.

He sighed. "Caden, it's…I have to go see Lucius."

"I'll wait outside. Wait for you. Please. I _insist._" She repeated through clenched teeth.

"Caden-,"

"Bruce, it's pretty obvious I'm not letting you out of that door without me." No more bullshit.

If he was…

She would have to face it like a big girl.

She reached forward, pushed the door closed, and turned the deadbolt.

"I'm going to let go of your arm. If you bolt out that door, you'll never see me again." She threatened.

He looked at her with puppy-dog eyes, large and wide. The sincerity she was sure was fake.

Slowly, she released his elbow. He didn't budge.

"Good. Now, how about you tell me…Where. Were. You. Going?" she enaunciated each word carefully.

"I was telling the truth about the store."

"For. What?"

"I…I can't tell you." _What? _

"Tell. Me."

"Caden…it's a surprise." He smirked.

"I don't like surprises. Just tell me, Bruce. If you do, I'll believe you. I won't even ask you again." _Bullshit, _she told herself. _But anything to get him to tell me. _

He pondered his question for a moment. "Special effects?"

"For God's sake, Bruce!" she yelled, turning from his abruptly, hair flying. "Don't lie to me…please." He walked to her front and grabbed her hands.

Tears welled in her eyes. Angry, at Bruce and her eyes, she rubbed them away with too much force, making her eyes sting. Black make-up smeared.

"Caden…this isn't how I wanted it to happen."

Oh…Shit…

She couldn't breathe.

She let the tears go this time. Ashamed, though.

_This is it. The day you've been dreading. _

No…

_Please, Bruce, don't end this. I don't know if I'll survive. _

"Please…don't sugarcoat it. Just…say it." She wanted _out _of the room. She wanted to hide. She avoided his gaze and shrunk back from him.

"Damn it, I'm not doing this right!" he growled. "Caden…are you…thinking I'm going to…?" he was confused, his eyes narrowed. "End it?"

More tears fell.

"Oh, Caden…" he shook his head slowly, smiling. "No, no, no…that's not what I'm doing."

"Then what are you doing?" she snapped. "Just…just say it, Bruce."

She braced for the impact.

She expected words.

But all she got was his lips on hers.

Giving in, she let herself relax in his arms, let her lips move against his. Their bodies pressed together fit perfectly.

They were perfect for each other. She didn't want him to end this.

This kiss should prove why.

Electric pulses of excitement, passion, and slight nervousness surged through them, or at least her, leaving the poor girl in a state of confusion and unending need. A slight sliver of embarrassment, like two long-time crushes in middle school finally kissing, went between them.

She clung to him desperately, never wanting to let go. He was too caring, too _perfect, _and his lips felt amazing on hers. _Don't leave me…_

She gripped him as he pulled away, holding on to him as if it was for her life.

But, his superior strength won. He got out of her grasp.

More tears.

He clasped her left hand, holding it gently, but firmly, as if he wanted to grip it tightly, and break the bones in her hand before he shoved her out the door.

But…

He took one long look into my eyes. I looked right back, losing myself in his…light, for lack of a better word.

Blue and green. Water and land. Both so different, yet…without one another, they couldn't exist.

And then…he slowly lowered himself to the ground.

On one knee.

_Oh…_

Her heart stopped.

She couldn't breathe.

…the decsent into hysteria was…strange.

Falling, sliding…losing control…no friction…

_Too fast…whizzing by…_

She took no breaths, but her starving lungs held no pain.

It was unpleasant…and pleasant.

_Ohmigod,ohmigod,ohmigod,ohmigod,ohmigod,ohmigod…_

"Caden?" his voice sent her barreling back into reality, like she had been stopped while spinning too fast. She sucked in a quiet breath. Her legs wouldn't work and her mouth was clumsy.

But Bruce…Bruce was completely calm. As if it was a part in a play he rehersed. The hand on her left was warm and softly stroking her, trying to calm her. The other was reaching into his pocket and searching.

He pulled out a small, dark red, velvet box.

OhmigodOhmigodOhmigod… "Caden…" he said again, this time leisurely and slowly, letting it roll off his tounge seductively. It made her shiver. His voice was the only sure thing in the midst of her hysterical mind. "Will you marry me?" Her heart was beating again, as if with new life. It was loud, proud, and strong, like the thunderous beatings of the hooves of wild horses. Her breath had returned as well, and was steady and calm. Good. He isn't breaking up with me. I don't think I could handle it, I love him too- HOLY SHIT, HE JUST PROPOSED TO ME(!) She was moving her mouth, but no words came out. All the words were in her head. "Ca-," "YES!" she nearly screamed. "Oh my Gooooooooood…YES!" She was bouncing in happiness, eyes full of happy tears, elated and giggling.

And when he slid the ring on her finger…the moment was even better.

She looked down at it, and gasped.

White gold in the shape of a snake devouring it's tail, with two large, shining, brilliant blue shappires, the same color as her irises, for eyes.

She gasped.

"Oh…My…_Bruce. _It's…it's…" she wasn't even able to finish a sentence.

"I saw it…and thought of you." He shrugged, putting a hand around her cheek, making her look into his eyes.

"Beautiful…" she finally sighed.

"Did you…really think I was going to…?" he made a face of disgust. "No! Not after…so long…" he stroked her cheek with his thumb. "Caden, I don't think I could ever leave you." In a fluid movement, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into him, crushing her against his chest, holding her so tight it probably hurt, but he couldn't stop himself. He began to rock slowly, back and forth, like a child. "Please stop crying…it breaks my heart…" he whispered in her ear. He felt her tremble.

"O-OK." She sighed. "OK."

"Caden…" he breathed. "I just proposed to you…aren't you happy?"

"More then I've ever been in my entire life." There was more meaning in those words then any amount of volume or words could express. She pulled away from him, his arms still wrapped around her, and looked at him, letting him see her face. She wiped away the tears and most of the makeup, as she saw on her hand.

"I really have to get some waterproof stuff…" she said to herself. They both laughed softly. "Bruce…I…are you sure?"

"Yes. Yes, I am." He clamped his hands on her shoulders. "More then anything. Caden, I love you."

"I…we're getting…m-m-m-m-,"

"Married." He completed, looking deep into her eyes.

"I'm going to be…your wife?" she asked.

"Yes."

"And…my name…is going to be Caden Wayne?"

"If you want it to be, Ms. Wayne." He half-smiled.

"I…I…I…I love you, Bruce." She was unable to say anything else. Her hand went down to the ring, and ran her fingers over it. "It's…beautiful…" she had never had something so…amazing.

So expensive.

Good. A normal, calm thought. Maybe she wasn't completely lost.

"Come on. Let's go upstairs." He said, guiding her to the elevator.

He pressed the button for the top floor and held her as the floors whizzed by. When they arrived, he helped her into the couch. She sat between his legs, her legs speard out, and her arms around his neck, head nuzzled into his chest.

And they just sat there.

And nothing could tear them apart.


	18. Chapter 18: Winter

Chapter 18:

She had fallen asleep in Bruce's arms in his bed that night. He left when she was fast asleep, and returned when she was. It was almost like he was never gone.

Almost.

They had always slept that way, but now, it seemed different.

It wasn't a boyfriend and girlfriend sleeping together.

It was a soon-to-be husband and wife.

She spent most of the time kissing him, holding him, looking at him. He was so handsome and perfect…

She awoke late at night, happy to find him next to her but sad to find him asleep. She tried to remember what time it was, and why she woke up.

With a soft groan, she glanced at the clock by the bed.

3:30 AM. He probably got in a little while ago.

_Bump…bump bump…bump…_

Yes! That's the sound that woke her up!

It's not Bruce. Alfred?

She squirmed out of his grasp, something that required great talent. When they first began sleeping together, it was difficult for her. Now, she had perfected the art.

And it came in handy when she had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

Or when she heard strange noises.

It had to be on this level, or the one below. They were on the top floor. There were 78 levels in this Goddamn thing.

She kicked the sheets off, careful to not wake Bruce, and pulled on the shirt she carelessly left on the floor.

In a flannel button-up shirt, pajama pants with Star Trek symbols all over it, and bare feet, she walked out of the room to investigate.

_Bump…SHHH!…bump…thud,thud,thud,thud,thud,thud…_

Footsteps. A loud shush. At least two people.

She looked for a weapon of any sort. Even a hairbrush would do, but, unlike normal, there was nothing to be found. If worse came to worse, she'd wake Bruce.

Cautiously, she stalked to the door.

She stopped and pressed her ear to it.

"_Be quiet, you idiot! You know the secuirty that's in here!" _a whisper hissed. A clipped, annoyed tone, masculine. Clear as water. It carried slight tones of humor, but even more condescention.

"_Uh…sorry boss." _A thick, muddy voice answered.

Only two.

Could she handle it?

Bruce had taught her a little bit of fighting. More often then not, she got distracted, but she rememebered more then he thought.

They were obviously intelligent, but only one sounded big. She'd wake up Bruce if she had no chance.

She took a long, deep breath and curled her hand around the knob.

_1…2…3!_

On three, she turned the knob slowly, quietly as she could, and silently pushed the door open.

…

The sound of an airsol can.

That was the last coherant thought.

The world was spinning around her. There was no structure. Nothing met her flailing arms. The wind escaped her lungs like a hole in an air matresses.

She was falling…

OOOF!

The sound of hitting the floor.

Sharp, sudden pain…

And then nothingness.

_Uhhhhhhhhhhhh…_

Saw?

The first word to flash in her mind jolted her. She jumped in her eye, sight swimming in disorientation. The only sound was a mangled mix of gasps. Her skin broke out in goose bumps.

She had the mother of all headaches. Her head throbbed when she jumped, reminding her painfully of what happened.

_Great, _she thought. _Of all the times to fall, you choose then?_

_BRUCE. _

The thought flashed in her mind with frightening suddeness. Her eyes frantically searched the room.

The room was a flat blue and cold. She shivered. She was facing the wall, which, to her horror, was scared with the deaths of others. Cobwebs hide in corners. It smelled fainly of decay and strongly of fear.

Her breathing was loud and ragged in the room. Her legs, arms, and head was free. Nothing was tying her to the flimsy chair, the one she remembered from her childhood as the chairs schools would spread in front of a school ampitherete for the parents.

But there was something heavy on her arm, on the underside of it.

And looked down…and was in shock.

Tapped to the underside of her arm with duck tape was…a gun.

Holy shit…

She inspected it further, and found that there was another object taped to her. It looked like-

Oh…Fuck…

A detonator.

It looked like it was activated by a pin, which was attached to a string, which…

Went into the barrel of a gun.

It clicked in her mind horrifyingly.

The string to the trigger was attacted to a bullet into the gun. And when the gun was shot…

KA-BOOM!

That's bad. That's _real _bad.

"Caden?" a voice yelled. She jumped once more.

The voice was familiar.

"Bruce?" she gasped, whirling out of her chair.

In front of here, there were four people.

1: Bruce, standing, in nothing but a pair of jeans. Hair tousled. Eyes wild.

2: Jill, blonde hair wild, blue eyes wide, lips quivering, and missing the ring finger on her left hand.

3: A T-Rex.

4: An Ankylosaurus.

She couldn't stop herself.

Pure, animalistic rage flooded her limbs, making her reckless but strong. Her vision narrowed in on the two men.

One lean and lanky. One stout and muscled.

A T-Rex and an Ankylosaurus.

"_BITCH!" _

"_MOTHER!" _

"You expect us to believe that?"

She lunged forward, starting with the one closest to her, the T-Rex. Her fingers clamped around his throat.

Everything had faded, disappeared into oblivion. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, expect her fingers strangling his scrawny neck.

Her name was called. She didn't care. He squirmed and kicked and cried underneath her, but she ignored it. He pounded her arms and legs and stomach, but the pain didn't bother her.

Him. Dead. Now.

Him. Dead. Now.

Him. Dead. Now. Him. Dead. Now. Him. Dead. Now. Him. Dead. Now. Him. Dead. Now. Him. Dead. Now…

"CADEN!" Resistence on her arm. "You're going to get us all killed!"

What?

She relaxed her arm and let Bruce pull it away. Before realizing it, in one fluid motion he had her with her back to his chest and his muscled arms clamped around her stomach.

"BRUCE! Let go of me, LET GO OF ME!" she hissed at him. "DO YOU KNOW WHO THAT IS?"

"Yes. It's the men that killed your mother…but you can't kill them now, Caden." His voice was surprisingly calm and steady, just behind my ear.

"_**WHY NOT?" **_she screeched, struggling to get free, thrashing and squirming.

"Look at what they're hooked up to." She glanced at a machine-the heart-beat reader seen in so many movies. But it was hooked up to…something. "If either of them, it sets off a detonator on a bus full of children."

…

What?

"Dear God…"

No.

_I won't kill him…now._

"You're fucking lucky." She growled at the man.

And then…remember Jill.

"Jill…" the word came out in a breath.

Bruce let her go. She ran to her.

"JILL!" Wild elation filled her. The blonde girl stood up to meet her.

Instead of saying anything, she pulled her into the tightest hug possible.

"C-Caden…c-can't…breath!" she protested. Caden released her grip.

"Jill…is it really you?" she was breathless and…

Happy.

"Caden…you never stopped looking for me." She smiled brightly.

"What happened to you?"

"Your father…took me hostage. He…cut off my finger. Beat me. But…I'm OK. The Joker and your father teamed up. And now…I'm here."

"Oh my God, Jill…" tears clouded her eyes.

"Caden." Bruce put a hand on her shoulder. "There's…nothing going on."

"There sure is."

An unfamiliar voice.

She jumped once more.

She didn't notice the small TV on a wooden table. They all turned and looked at it.

"Now that everyone's awake," The Joker…

His voice was exactly how she remembered. Stressed, but slow. The volume and voice was unsteady, changing to the malice of the words like a child's toy in warm and cold water.

He was holding the camera to his face, zooming in on the scars and wild make-up. When it narrowed in one his eyes, she had to look away. Thankfully, it returned to normal. "It's time to start the fun." He licked his lips, his eyes going across the room for a short moment. "As you can see, you're in a pretty bad situation. You, ah, Caden…it's all based around _you. _The bullet in that gun is tied to a detonator…but it doesn't activate it. It _deactivates _it. In 10 minutes, the detonator will…detonate. The room will explode, killing all of you along with the bus full of innocent little children. Speaking of them, your two…ah,-," he stopped to laugh. "-_friends _are hooked up to these…things. You kill either one of them…and-**KA-BOOM!" **he made exploding motions with his hands. His hands were very expressive. "Bye, bye, kids." Caden swallowed roughly. "You have two options. Kill Jilly, or your squeeze, Bruce-y. The clock's a-ticking, Gayden!" he stopped to cackle once more. "Make up your mind."

The screen went blank.

And all of her internal organs fell into a pit.

"Holy…Shit…"

"Caden…" Bruce's voice was full of pain, thick and slow and nervous.

_Oh…no…_

_No, not me…why is this happening to **me**?_

"Look…one of us has to die…" he looked at Jill. Jill was already crying. "Caden…kill me. Shoot me. I can survive it."

The TV flickered on again.

"Oh, and the bullet is _fullllll _of molten lead…it that gets into Bruce-y…"

The screen went blank once more.

Bruce's eyes widened, but returned to normal.

"_Please, _Caden. Do it. Shoot me. I'll…even do it for you."

"_What? _NO! You're seriously conforming to his crazy plans?" she pulled away from him. "I'm not shooting _any _of you!"

"Caden…please…you have to understand…you can't let those kids die." He locked his hands around her wrist, pulling her close.

"I'm not going to! I'll…find a way out of this! I-,"

"Caden…look at this place. This room has nothing, not even a vent. The door has _5 _locks on it. _5. _There's no way…except to shoot me." He was guiding the arm with the gun towards her.

"No…no, I won't." she had begun to sob. It clouded her voice.

"Don't cry…please don't cry…" he put two of his fingers under her chin. "I don't want to remember you crying…"

"But…Bruce…" an idea flashed in her mind. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "Without you…who will take care of Gotham?"

His face flashed with realization.

"Have you been paying attention to the news? There's been an entire wave of people like me…Gotham will be OK."

"But without you…" she couldn't talk about this anymore. Jill and the two dinosaurs were watching. "Bruce…please…don't make me do this…"

She wasn't about to shoot Jill, but she wasn't about to shoot Bruce either.

A loud click and beep sounded through the room.

On the wall was a timer.

9:00 it read. 8:59. 8:58. 8:57.

Nine minutes left.

"Come on, we can still find a way out of here! We can…take the detonator off them!" she titled her head towards the two dinosaurs.

"I've tried that already, Caden…the detonators _outside _the room. If it reads no heart beat, it…" he didn't need to say.

"Bruce…" she tried to bury her head in his chest, but he didn't let her. He grabbed her left hand, and ran his thumb across the ring.

"I'm glad, even for a little while…you were mine."

"I always was." She sighed. "Always." She looked into his eyes, and saw gathering tears in both of theirs.

"Stay strong for me, Caden."

"Always." She nodded. "I love you…so much…" she had forgotton that the Despicable Duo and Jill were sitting there. She forgot the world.

"Caden…you're the most amazing woman I've ever met…strong. Capable. Beautiful. _Stubborn._"

"Well, you're just as bad." She breathed, no malice in her tone.

"Witty to the end." He cupped a hand around her cheek and tilted her face upward. "Promise me one thing…" he asked. "Just one thing…"

"What?"

"Promise me…that you'll be happy. That you'll move on. That you'll be happy with Jill."

"I will, Bruce. I promise." _No, I don't. _She'd never move on from him.

"You're lying." He smirked.

"8 minutes." Jill annouced.

Quickly, Bruce snatched her head and pulled her into the deepest, more intense kiss of her life.

They both held each other tightly and trembled. He ran fingers through her hair and hugged her and stroked her hair and back. She tangled her hand in his hair and in the back of his shirt.

They felt…connected. One.

They needed each other. Like water and land. Like light and dark. It was as simple as that.

That's when she made her decision.

"6 minutes left." She sighed. She pulled herself away from Bruce and walked over to Jill.

"Jill…I love ya, Jill. You stood by me through all the years, and…I just want to say thank you."

"Oh, spend your time saying goodbye to Bruce. I'll be here for you." She smiled.

Caden's heart broke.

6:30. 6:29. 6:28. 6:27…

She walked to the men that killed her mother.

"I know you remember me…and I know that there's something you need to say to me." Her voice was dark and grave. She looked both of them in the muddy brown eyes. "Look me in the eyes, and tell me you're sorry."

Easier said then done.

The T-Rex looked at her. "I'm sorry." He said effortlessly.

The Akylosaurus had more trouble. He faltered under her gaze, trembling. "I-I-I-I'm sorry." He stuttered out.

"You'd better be."

5 minutes.

"I'll do it when there's 30 seconds left." She said to Bruce.

And she clung to him, and kissed him, and told him how much she loved him.

And he did the same.

With Bruce, the time streched. She was…almost at peace when the clock stuck :45.

"I'm so sorry, Bruce." She looked deep into his eyes, and found the same thing she felt. Peace. Not happy, but not sad. "I love you." Told him one last time.

One lass quick kiss.

She stepped away from him.

The clock read :23.

"I love you too, Caden." He answered.

"Bruce…promise me you'll be happy." Her voice was tight and thick.

"Wait, what? Caden-,"

"I'm sorry."

The last thing she saw was the barrel of the gun pointed at her face.

Somewhere, in the floating darkness, she heard: "Causes disturbing nightmares when unconscious…good job…"


	19. Chapter 19: Summer

Chapter 19:

Heaven's weird…

_Or is this Hell?_

She placed her bet on Hell. She had murdered people; murderers don't go to Heaven.

But…why is Hell so _white? _

She kept her eyes squeezed shut. Maybe this was purgatory and if she went to sleep, she'd never have to face it.

A shudder crept along her spine. To simply not exist, and have no consciousness or thought terrified her. Eternal sleep might have sounded good to her as a teenager, but now…

She wanted to be able to…continue.

And she was right now, wasn't she?

She should think about something. You would believe people have fascinating thoughts after they die.

Funny…she felt no pain at all when she shot herself.

It was somewhat like when she died in a dream.

_A dream…_

Her eyes bolted open. Her body felt like it was lurched forward, but she was held back. It reminded her of slamming the brakes on in her car when she was attacked by ther Joker via automoblie.

Jumping from object to object, her eyes took in it enviroment.

Blistering white florescent lights. Tables with intimidating bottles of various liquids and contains of numerous pills. Books, some lying open on the tables. Many notebooks. Pencils laid everywhere, in corners. It reminded her of her old school.

In fact…that's what it looked like.

The floors were hard, cold tile, white speckled with black. There was a large desk in the front of them with a chalkboard, full of dust and faint images of past-written words, behind it. Counters, the tables full of strange things, lined all around the room, expect for the back, which held a dry-erase board with cracks and smudges of worn-away colors. In the corners, dust gathered along with pencils, scraps of paper, and erasers. A large closet had a lock on it.

Exactly the same…

Except, instead of desks for students, there were rows and rows of small gurneys with six restraints on each, all made of thick leather: two for feet, two for hands, on across the waist, and one across the collarbone.

_Am I…? _

She slowly looked down to see, to her absolute horror, that she was fully restrained.

This _was _Hell.

Over the sound of her own loud breathing, she heard a sigh and the roll of chair-wheels on the hard floor.

She twisted her head to the side.

She saw the chair coming towards her first. It was obvious a person was in it. She saw a flash of a black suit-clad leg.

The chair then spun…

And she met cold, hard, icy eyes that froze her in her place.

She was so frightened at that moment that she trembled.

He held her gaze, seemingly effortlessly. It was like staring into a wall.

Then, he moved his eyes. She was able to breath again.

The first thing she noticed were high cheekbones and tousled, dark brown hair.

Where had she seen a face like that?

At the subway terminal.

Johnaten Crane. The Scarecrow.

She had met him plenty of times, but his effect was slightly lessened when you couldn't see his eyes.

Bruce had told her about him.

About his fear toxin.

2+2…

"Good job, Nightmare." He said, angling her chin over her. She turned her head to the other side.

A girl stood there, hardly over 20 in her face, but in her eyes, she had ages. Her eyes were slightly tilted and near-electric green. Toxic. A shock of straight, silvery-blond hair moved with her head as she nodded. The girl curved a smile when the doctor congradulated her. Pride and intelligence showed in her eyes, along with a sharpened hardness that came from those who had been abused, either by parents or others.

"Nightmares effect people more deeply then sporratic encounters with fear." She said flatly but proudly.

"That is where we disagree…" he retorted quietly. "Come take a look at your first success." He waved her over. The girl complied. Caden felt so…vulnerable under the girl's calculating stare. It shook her to her core.

For some odd reason, she felt the need to look at her left hand.

The ring was still there, gleaming in the lights.

It gave her the strength to withstand 'Nightmare's' glare, and even glare back.

"You seemed disturbed, but you're stronger now…" she observed, writing it down quickly in her notepad.

"I get over nightmares easily." She said, slightly snide. _Good. _

The girl didn't seem to care.

"You have slight diliation of the pupil, increased heart rate, trouble breathing…you're not over this nightmare yet." Nightmare replied. I guess she would know. "Tell me…what happened?" she sounded strangely open, like a psychologist. She sat on the edge of a transformed gurney.

"Like Hell I'm telling _you._" She hissed.

"I guess we'll just have to…try again!" Nightmare said pulled a needle out of her pocket. It was filled with a green substance that looked like radioactive waste. Caden's lip trembled.

"Fine." She groaned. "I woke up in this room with Bruce, my missing friend Jill, and the two men who killed my mother." She felt awkward admitting her life to a stranger, but truthfully, she was a bit scared of the girl with the toxic eyes and the man with the icy glare. "The Joker was the…antagonist, I guess. I had a gun strapped to my arm. In it, the bullet was tied to a pin that would deactivate the detonator on my arm as well…if I didn't shoot it in ten minutes, all of us, along with a bus full of children would die. I had two options: kill the men that murdered my mother, which would end up blowing up the bus full of kids, or kill Bruce or Jill. I turned the gun on myself."

Did she really do that in her dream?

She wished she was like _that _in real life. Brave and galliant and strong; almost like Bruce.

_Bruce…_

She involuntarily looked down at her left hand again. It still sparkled.

"Interesting…" Nightmare purred, finishing her writing. "I'll go add to this my other research." She left the room.

Leaving her alone with the Scarecrow.

He only glared at her.

Eventually, she got up the courage to ask: "Why am I here?"

"You're here because the Joker wants you dead, or at least tortured." He answered cooly.

It sounded as causal as discussing weather.

"_Why?" _

"Your father convinced the Joker to try and bring you to him. When he didn't, they got in an argument. Now, he just wants you dead because…well, frankly, he's insane." He shrugged. "I think this worked out better."

"Not me." She growled.

"You will, eventually…you see, I know where your father is." Caden's eyes shot open.

How long ago had she given up on her father? How long did she no longer feel the driving urge to kill, kill, kill? Long…so long, she forgot how strong the feeling was.

But now, the thought of driving a dagger into his heart…

It was impossible to resist.

And just like that, months of hard work and love from Bruce was erased.

"If you help me, I will reveal him location-and help you kill him."

To Hell with ethics! She wanted her father _dead, _right now, at this moment. Her fingers twitched with the need to act, to clench around a knife or gun. She _needed _the rush of the kill, like she needed air.

It was as if she had been submerged in water for too long…and now, she was finally coming to the surface to take a breath.

Yes…he will die.

She will help Crane, whatever he intends.

"What do you need me to do?"


	20. Chapter 20: Spring

Chapter 20:

"How much do you know of the mind?" Crane's voice echoed eerily throughout the room.

Her eyes scanned her surroundings, something she had grown used to doing.

A bed on the floor, seemingly clean. A mirror with cracks on the edges, like from being ripped out of a bathroom wall. A desk much like the one in the Experimentation Room, where she first woke up, with a swiveling chair.

This was one of the smaller classrooms for a small group of kids- less then ten of them. All the education objects had been removed, replaced with experimentation equipment and writing supplies.

As per their agreement, a large box full of what she knew to be weapons sat on the desk.

And there was nothing else in the room.

This turned out to be her old school, which had been abandoned a few years after her graduation. It had lost it's funding, and was left in the Narrows, it's original location, like a corpse left on the side of the street.

She hated the memories, but most of the school had been cleared out.

It smelled like old dry-erase markers and dust, but it was a good hide-out.

"Not much, I'm afraid." She answered as she made her way to the chair. "But, unlike you two, I'm good at fighting." She grabbed the box and placed it on her lap.

Guns. Knives. More guns.

It was _delicious. _

She had simple tastes. Weapons made her happy.

Strange, how much she censored herself with Wayne. With Johnathan, she could act how she truly was, and if that was a psychotic Hell-bent on revenge, then so be it.

"Why was Bruce Wayne in your dream?" he asked, ever blunt. His face was slightly contemplative, not turned towards me but tilted and staring at the floor.

She raised her left hand and wiggled her fingers. "I was engaged to Bruce Wayne."

"Was?"

"Eh, he'd never want me back now."

It had been a week.

He didn't see her.

She didn't see him.

She wasn't planning on it.

It made things easier.

But she liked the ring. She would keep it. If Bruce-fucking-Wayne wanted it back so bad, let him come and get it.

"Yet you still wear the ring."

She smiled. Repeating her thoughts, she said: "I like it."

"May I see it?" he asked politely. Though he was crazy and enjoyed watching women scream, he was a gentlemen at times.

"Don't break it." She warned before placing it in his hand. He examined it closely.

"These are big saphhires." He observed. "He must have paid a lot."

"He's loaded, so it's not like money matters to him." She shrugged.

"You are…" he searched for the right word. "Slightly insane, but attractive. I see why Wayne took to you." He placed the ring back in her hand, and left the room.

She slid it back onto her ring finger, her stomach suddenly churning.

"What's the job tonight, Crane?" she asked as she leaned against the desk on her elbows.

She looked…different then she had a few weeks ago.

Without worrying how she looked to Bruce, she stopped wearing make-up. Except for lipstick. She liked that.

Besides that, everything on her was for effcientcy.

She wore jeans that were just the right size-tight enough to stay on her body through movement and loose enough to not restrict her movement. They were faded and frayed already. She had taken to wearing simpler clothes. Today, it was a black wife-beater.

Hidden under her shirt was a sheath that wrapped around her body, holding a knife. There was also knives in her boots as well.

The right amount of steroids had made her stronger but not over-muscled and still feminine. _That _often helped as much as the steroids.

She was a machine now, built to do Crane's work and take him to dangerous places.

It was late at night now, time for the cockroaches to be crawling out of their dens.

Nightmare sat in the spinning chair, one leg bent under her, her arms crossed. Crane stood in front of the desk, proud and tall as ever. The hired hands stood awkwardly on the edges of the room.

"New shipment of chemicals." He answered.

"I get to play "Beat Up the Desperate Junkie" again?" she asked enthusiasictly.

"Yes."

"Good." She cracked her knuckles. The gun halters at her sides swung as she bounced from foot to foot. "Easy, but fun."

"What about me?" Nightmare asked. Recently, she got even more bitter towards Caden. "Do I just stand in the backgroud, or do I get to do the large task of unloading boxes?"

"No. Do as I do." He commanded the girl. She scowled. "You," he turned back to her. "Keep an eye out."

"Aye, commander." She retorted sarcastically. She walked backwards and leaned against the chalkboard.

She waited for the goons to load the white van, and followed.

Her limbs surged with unnatural strength, not just ready for action but aching for it.

Another soft hunger grew within her.

Crane gave both her and Nightmare small amouts of precription drugs…not the kind she took for her schizophrenia and Addison's Disease (which he promised to get off the radar) but the useless, addictive kind. She wasn't mad with the addiction, but it was just enough to keep the two of them following him and his orders.

She swallowed them whenever directed too, but didn't seek them besides that. She was good at ignoring things.

Unlike Nightmare, who often partook of more of the drugs then she should, Caden still had a sliver of sanity that kept her from completely destroying her body.

Maybe that's because her body was the only reason she was useful to Crane. She wasn't particularly intelligent or cunning. Her only saving grace was her slowly growing abilty to fight.

Besides, she needed him to get her Dad.

After 6 months of "service," he'd reveal the location. She would go and kill him, and afterward, she could choose if she wanted to stay with him.

At the time, she did not.

It had been three weeks and she was getting bored.

At least she got to have fun now.

The car slowly stopped at a discret food packaging-and-shipping building. The van slowly backed up into the garage.

It wasn't for food.

As she got out of the car, numerous boxes laid on the ground; the dangerous chemicals, extracts, and stimulants Crane used to make his Fear Toxin.

He put his mask on, and now, he was Scarecrow. He got angry if you called him anything else.

They got out of the car, Caden giddy, Scarecrow objective, and Nightmare prickly. The goons also got out and immediately started on the boxes.

The other two sat and watched. Caden searched the perimeter.

No one was lying in ambush.

The streets talk, but few hear it's whispers. Only the most desperate of the desperate would hear of these. They would try to steal drugs from Crane. Once, they had succeeded.

That was before Caden came.

Caden wasn't that scary. Her eyes had changed a bit, the same color but somehow sharper but distant, and her hair was long and dark brown.

She looked exactly the same as she had weeks ago.

It felt like a lifetime.

Of course, poor Bruce wouldn't understand.

But here…here, she had reached her true potiental.

Strong. Proud. Capable. Unrelentless. Dangerous.

_That _was what she was made to be. Not some happily married office-worker.

Every sense finely attuned, she waited for a sound.

Nothing came until the end, when they were about to get in the car.

Battle cries. _Bad idea. _

Three people rushed from the dark at the car.

_Oh, please…_

The first one, a dirty male, charged her. With ease, she pulled out her gun and shot him right in the head and stopping him dead in his tracks.

Ooooh…

It was a physical thing she felt. It shuddered through her body, leaving her stunned for a second.

The kill felt so _good. _

The only weapon the man had was a pocket knife. Those were useless if they couldn't get close to her.

The other two were after Scarecrow and Nightmare. Knowing Scarecrow had a better defense and was stronger, she protected Nightmare first, who were right outside the car.

This time, it was a wild-haired woman rushing the girl. Her crazy battle cry made her sound like an Amazonian goddess.

_Bam, Bam! _Dead. Mmmm.

The other man hadn't gotten to Scarecrow. In a single motion, she launched herself on to the car's hood and aimed at the man.

_Bam. Bam. Bam! _She laughed out loud, absolutely, positively _delighted_, so very _excited _and _exhilerated. _

So..._fun._

As the two comprehended the dead bodies, they looked up at Caden.

"Nice work." Scarecrow congradulated, his voice warped, kicking at the dead replied only with a giggle.

Surprisingly, she stumbled. Scarecrow steadied her by grabbing her waist.

She glanced up at him, and didn't feel fear like usual. She saw a man behind those eyes.

She then looked at her left hand on her ring finger.

Giving a single nod in thanks, she turned around and got in the car, also opening the door for him. The want for the pills came again, and if she was extra-special nice to him, he might be kind and give her a fix when they got back to the school.

She sat back in the car seat, hands behind her head, stretched out comfortablely. Sighing contentedly, she thought: _another night well done. _

She wanted to kill again.

But, if she wondered off and murdered, she realized Crane retaliated by taking away her schizophrenia medicine.

After a day of halluncinations, paranoia, and delusions, he gave it back to her.

She would never do _that _again.

The ride back was silent.

Arriving was silent.

Crane and Nightmare weren't chatty people.

The school was the school she went to as a teenager-it was the only school in the Narrows. There had been problems at Gotham High School with the kids from the Narrows-they were being bullied often, and were bullying others, which, obviously, was more of an issue. They built a small school in the Narrows so the rich kids that didn't go to private schools would be "safe."

No where in Gotham was safe.

Before moving herself and her mother out, they had lived in the Narrows. It…wasn't the best place.

It had gotten worse.

The psycho population increased when the inmates at Arkham escaped a while ago; when Crane and "The League of Shadows" tried to "destroy" Gotham. Bruce had told her the whole story.

They should have destroyed Gotham. Bruce should have let them.

It's a wasteland of crime and hatred and injustice. Let it start anew and see if it can save itself.

But, no, Bruce was a fucking saint like always…

Innocent people die sometimes. That's the circle of life.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, she knew that was sad. Life sucks.

But Gotham is ruined. Spoiled by years of criminals, rotten to the core. Bruce? One person willing to stand up. No one else is.

This place is lost. The only way to survive is to join the criminals.

Bruce would be mad at her. He would probably _hate _her.

That thought…hurt her.

Those were dangerous thoughts.

She walked through the hallow, white-tiled school halls, her footsteps echoing. Clenching her fists and gritting her teeth, she entered her room.

Break something. She needed to break something.

She slammed the door behind her, locking it. Jerky with repressed rage, she grabbed up the first thing she saw on her desk, a small empty glass vial, and, with unnatural, anger-driven strength, threw it right at the wall.

It broke with a pleasureable glass scream.

She grabbed another one…

But her arm faltered mid-throw.

It didn't fly out of her hand like it should. Instead, her fingers couldn't let go of it.

A flood of emotion took her under, suddenly ambushing her. Her face contorted into a mask of pure sorrow. Tears, which had stagnatated inside her when she held them in, escaped her eyes.

She fell backwards onto the bed, dropping the vial. It shattered, but it didn't bring pleasure.

She grabbed a pillow, squeezing it so hard it hurt, and began to sob into her.

Bruce…she needed Bruce…

She can't have him.

_My father…I'm doing this to find my father…my father…I'll find him…I'll **kill **him…and then, Bruce will take me back…he has to…find my father…must find him…_


	21. Chapter 21: Sonata Pathetique

Chapter 21

"I can't keep supplying victims to you, Crane." The mob boss, the head of a smaller crime family, said to Scarecrow.

The situation wasn't quite fair.

The boss had about ten guys at his back, and there was surely more lurking. On Caden's side, there was her, Crane, Nightmare, and two goons.

But…Caden was there. She could take care of the boss's guys easily.

"We're paying you to do that." Crane hissed. Well, we were.

"Too many people have gone missing. The police'll get suspicious." He retorted, crossing hairy arms.

"Only take the people with no one to miss them." Nightmare commanded.

"20 people missing? We can't take anymore."

"If you want your money, you'll keep taking people." Crane said, leaning against the white van.

"We don't want your money."

"Not a good idea…" Caden warned, slowly walking closer.

Yes, she _knew _there were other people lurking. She _felt _eyes on her.

Oh well! It'll be fun killing them!

"You gonna hurt me, little girl?" the boss chuckled.

"We might do _worse _then physical harm." She threatened, her voice low. "I suggest you do what Scarecrow says."

Suddenly, a gun was in her face. Cocked and ready.

"I'm not gonna do what some _freak _in a mask tells me!"

Caden sighed.

"So you want to do this the hard way?" She didn't wait for an answer.

Grabbing him by the wrist before he could register it, she grabbed the hand that belligerently waved a gun and aimed it right towards one of the boss's friends just as he pulled the trigger. The bullet went whizzing toward the man, and struck right in the chest.

The man's eyes were wide with terror. He struggled to get his arm back.

I can fix that…

She pulled his right wrist, his gun hand, out, twisting clockwise. Gunshots started to fire around her.

Go on! Shoot me!

She made a fist and slammed it down on his elbow…

CRACK!

A loud, shrill scream rang throughout the room…

She started to laugh manically, loud and, frankly, not that feminine, but still, _loud._

She turned towards the other goons.

They took one look at their boss screaming and clutching his arm, and then a look at her.

They dropped their guns.

"I'll set the bone…if you agree to our terms." She hissed.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…OK…what are they?" the boss whimpered.

"1 person every day. A thousand for each. You'll do this until Dr. Crane says he no longer needs it-and there will be no more of this 'we can't take anymore people' nonsense."

"O-OK…just…fix my arm!"

Caden smiled. "Much obliged."

BOOOOOOOM!

Involuntarily, Caden covered her face with her arm. She'd been around explosions before, and though they didn't terrify her like they used too, she knew that, if she wasn't near the explosion, shrapnel was the most dangerous thing. She had the good sense to pull the man in front of her and crouch, so he shielded her.

After the explosion calmed, she saw that it had happened directly in front of them. Looking down at the poor guy she used as a buckler, she saw that a decent piece of metal had lodged in his throat.

Oh well. She didn't care that he was dead. But where did the-

"It's the BAT!" she heard someone scream.

_Oh…**shit! **_

She immediately bolted for the van, her hand scanning the insanity for Scarecrow.

Ooofh!

She had slammed into something black.

She whipped her head around.

_Shit._

"Hi." She stammered, gently waving her fingers. Lowering her head, she looked up at him sheepishly, like a teenager caught sneaking in past curfew.

He looked down at her with a mix of anger of disappointment.

"Oh, you've found me! Am I it, now?" she walked backward slowly, waving her hands theatrically in an attempt to distract him. "Should I cover my eyes and count to ten?" she laughed before bolting in the other direction. He grabbed her arm, but she easily slipped out of it.

_Get to the van!_

It was close, and Scarecrow and Nightmare were already getting in. The goons were scrambling.

Heart hammering, she grabbed for the handle, and was surprised when Batman didn't stop her.

She still heard a flurry of punches.

She looked around for him, knowing he could be a shadow when he wanted to, and found that he was currently taking the goons out of commission.

And was heading for Scarecrow.

She launched herself onto the hood of the car, and slid to the other side.

Scarecrow was feebly "fighting" with Batman. Each weak punch was blocked and used against him.

He was using jujitsu.

Silently, she closed in one Batman, and pretended to punch him…

He whirled, about to block her attack, but she pulled back at the last second, grabbing his wrist with the other hand.

If Scarecrow saw any indication that she knew Batman, any slight hint of their true relationship, he'd make the connection. He'd know that Bruce Wayne was Batman and it'd be over. All over. He'd probably die. Crane would kill me for not telling him. Villains would run free, and it'd all be over.

"Look at him...he's a weakling! Why don't you, uh...hunt bigger game?" she asked in a voice she hoped mimicked the Joker's. Taking advantage of the distracted moment, Batman swiftly punched Crane's temple. He was knocked out cold.

Oh, shit. Double shit. Triple shit. Quadruple shit. Shit times infinity.

They were alone. The mob had cleared out, and the goons left were out cold. Scarecrow was unconscious, and Nightmare was too.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

They just kind of...stood there and looked at each other for a second. One second he was Bruce and one second he was Batman and she wasn't quite sure where one ended and the other started. He was all that was good and just slightly manic but still _good_, at his core, so good the people of Gotham couldn't comprehend, yet so terrifying, so powerful, so fearful...

Like a monster. Like a demigod.

But he's a person. Just a person; just Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy who runs Wayne Enterprises. Different from the rest of the world, but still just a _person _who somehow managed to function in society with a near-mythical alter-ego that inspires both fear and hate and renown.

And it dawned on Caden, just for a second; it only made sense for just one single moment.

Bruce Wayne's a little crazy in his own way. Batman's fuckin' nuts, just like she was. They were both fuckin' nut-jobs, but he was a better person then she was, and didn't take out his insanity on the good people. She wasn't. She succumbed to her insanity, and had fallen from grace. She was pathetic, un-saveable.

Everyone's nuts. Everyone's fuckin' nuts, just in their own little ways, no matter how hard they hide it or try to function in today's society. They might sometimes switch between two facets of the same person, or see and hear things that aren't there, or suspect every person of conspiring against them, or feel the slightest twinge of annoyance with someone who's a different color; may not hate them, but who doesn't think "damn Asian" or "black douchebag" or even "white scum" from now and then?

Everyone hates. Everyone lusts. Everyone is nuts. And most people have a choice; run away from it, hide it for their entire lives, and carry it to their graves, or look their insanity straight in it's fire-colored eyes and say "enough." They may defeat it or they may crazy.

_I saw the face of my psychosis, and I fainted in fear. I allowed it to steal me, to take away who I am, who I was, and possess me. I failed where others succeded. _

_I am an absolute failure as a human being. That's what the purpose of human life is; to conquer your demons. And I failed. _

_I am nothing. _

_I am worth nothing._

_I am a monster. _

And then, the thought slipped away, like a shadow in the night, and she couldn't comprehend it again. It made no sense to her now...it was beyond her thinking. One last moment of greatness for the spiraling psychotic.

"Look..." she started. She wasn't sure where to start. "I...um..."

_I know. _

"You know how people usually tend to follow stereotypes, even in conversation? People will think 'this is how the conversation should go.' Well, the reason this is so hard is because this has _never _happened before, and we just don't know what to-," she said quickly and nervously. He held up a hand.

She looked down at her shoes shyly. She wasn't sure what to say.

When she looked up, he was gone.

"Caden!" a voice hissed. Nightmare's.

She jumped, and looked frantically for the girl. A blur of silver caught her eye.

"Shit!" she cursed before she fully knew what happened. The young girl was on the ground, clutching her leg. Caden rushed to her said.

"Fuuuuuck." Nightmare groaned. "Damn it, woman, help me!"

"Chill out!" Caden retorted. She located the source of what she assumed was a gunshot wound. It was right on her thigh. Leaning forward, she examined it.

"No arteries hit or in the way...no bones hit...you'll be fine. We'll get you back to the hide-out and deal with it there." she explained.

"Fine? This is fuckin-,"

"First bullet wound?" Caden interrupted. Nightmare took a deep breath, and, in a surprisingly vulnerable and quiet voice, she answered: "Yeah."

"It'll be OK. I swear. One I get this sucker, out, it'll heal right up. I know it hurts a lot, but you'll be alright." It felt weird to say reassuring words. A little part her wanted to tell Nightmare that she'd be disfigured forever and not be able to walk, and that she should just kill herself now, because nothing she'll ever do in life will be worth living with the handicap. She wanted to say it just to scare her and hurt her, because that's what Caden enjoyed now, wasn't it?

But...she didn't want to see fear in the poor girl's eyes. Nightmare can't be over 18. No girl that young should be out here. She should be worrying about senior prom and getting a beautiful dress and looking like a princess. She should have a dad that loves her to death and a mother that does too. She should be happy, because she's smart as hell and could have one heck of a life with that intelligence that doesn't involve fear and pain and, ultimately, death.

But never everyone gets what they should have. They get what they get, and that's that.

She pulled the girl up, putting an arm around her and helping her to the van. Caden sat her down in a seat gently and closed the door.

She walked around to Crane, called his name. "Wake up, Scarecrow, we gotta go find Oz and get you your brain." she joked. With a groan, his eyes opened. He sighed and stood.

"Nightmare's been hit; nothing she'll need to be hospitalized for. I can fix it back at the school. She'll be OK." Caden explained. Scarecrow shrugged and walked around to the car.

He obviously doesn't care about her. He doesn't care about anyone.

Caden got in the car, and looked back at Nightmare. The girl was actually really pretty, in a strange way, with her fine hair and bright green eyes.

_I bet if she were in high school, she'd have a great boyfriend, good grades, and a scholarship to any college of her choosing. _

If only life worked out that way.

Nightmare has her own demons to face, and she'll face them soon. Caden hoped she was stronger then she was, stronger then Crane was.

_Because the two of us? We fucked up big time. _


	22. Chapter 22: Funeral March

Chapter 22

In the brightly-lit cafeteria, on a long table, Nightmare shuddered.

With a grimace on her face, a bit of blood on her cheek, Caden looked at the wound in the girl's thigh. "No arteries were hit, no bones hit, and the bullet didn't shatter. You're lucky."

"I don't feel so lucky." Nightmare frowned.

"It'll be OK. I swear." Caden smiled. Nightmare just nodded.

"Crane?" Caden asked, turning around to face the man with the bull shark eyes that looked down at the girl on the table. "You got any sedatives around here?"

"Of course I do." He answered, then simply stood there.

"...can you possibly go get them?" she asked, irritated.

"No."

She growled, stood up, and pulled him to the side. Quietly but as angry as possible, she whispered: "Do you know what's going to happen next? I'm going to be using a knife as a lever to flip that bullet out of her leg. It's gonna hurt."

"So?" he shrugged. "It'll make her tougher."

"She's your apprentice. Don't you care?" Caden was appalled.

"I'm not wasting it on her. She'll be fine."

"She might scream, you know. It'll draw attention."

Then, he gave a slight smirk that made Caden want to run for her mother, to curl up into a ball and shake. That was a look he perfected to scare anyone shitless. He had perfected everything to make him as terrifying as possible, even his voice, his quiet, smooth, and cold voice that made her shiver.

"People are used to the sounds of screams coming from this building. It won't draw attention."

_Oh, aren't you just so fuckin' charming and terrifying and fuckin' debonair with your suit and, Good Lord, I hate you. _

Caden sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fine. Whatever. Do you at least have any painkillers?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few pills. As she reached for them, he closed his hand. She met his glare and looked straight into those unfeeling crocodile eyes.

"Didn't you just break a man's bone? Didn't you laugh as it jutted out of his arm?" he raised an eyebrow. "Why the sudden heart?"

"Because that's a _kid _on that table, Crane. Not a junkie, not a mob boss. A _kid_."

"And I care why?" There wasn't even a hint of sarcasm, not a hint of humor in that voice. He was completely serious, his voice low and fluid and composed. With a loud _GRRR!, _Caden grabbed the pills from his hands and gave them to Nightmare, maybe harsher then she should have.

Calming herself, she sat down and picked up the knife. Without a second's hesitation, she leaned over, and slid the knife into the wound.

The girl screamed.

Caden blocked her out.

She slipped the edge of the knife beneath the bullet, and flicked her wrist. The bullet came out with a sickening _plop._

Nightmare took a long, deep breath and stilled herself. With a slight smile on her face, Caden handed her the bullet. The girl looked at curiously.

"It's so...small." she noted.

"Hurts like a bitch, though, doesn't it?" Caden added. Nightmare frowned at it, and threw it across the room in anger. It hit the wall with a quiet metallic hiss.

"Fuckin' thing." If the blush on her cheeks said anything, Caden assumed that Nightmare was embarrassed that something so much took her down. Angry, even.

Bullets take people down. It's nothing to be ashamed of. But Caden couldn't tell her that. She wouldn't listen.

Caden grabbed the old bottle of alcohol she found in a science lab. It was dusty, but OK. With it, she cleaned the wound—much to Nightmare's discontent—and rubbed it on the needle. She set about the grim task of sewing together flesh, and the girl took it like a trooper. After Caden was done, she covered it with a bandage.

"Thanks." Nightmare growled with her arms crossed. "I owe ya."

"No problem." Caden shrugged.

Nightmare yawned and stalked off. Caden and Crane stood there, glaring at each other.

Crane reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small pill. He held it out for Caden.

It was one of the damn addictive pills.

Every instinct told Caden to grab that pill and force it down like it was that $1,000 sundae. Her hand reached for it, her mind reached for it. She _needed _it, like air or water or food. It was a pure _need._

But a memory stopped her.

Sitting in the Tumbler, doing this same exact thing on the mysterious Batman. Going to Bruce's later, and seeing a bullet wound on his stomach. Realizing he was Batman.

Guilt washed over her. Pure guilt that hit her like a ton of bricks and pulled on her guts.

After everything that man did for her...

She looked down at her left hand. She had taken off the ring.

"I'm good." Those were the hardest words she ever said. It was like holding her breath until she choked. She couldn't even describe in words how bad that was, turning down that which she felt like she _needed_.

But she did it.

And, for a second, she saw the face of her insanity, a twisted creature with blood on it's hands and eyes the same as hers. Not eyes of fire. Eyes the color of hers.

It was part of her, that monster inside her. She lost the battle, and it took over her.

Doesn't mean she can't control it.

Crane furrowed his eyebrows. "Take it." he insisted, putting it closer to her face. Immediately, Caden stumbled backward. _Get it away from me, get it away from me, get it awaaaaaaay from me nooooooooooow..._

"No." she muttered, shaking her head. "Have I ever mentioned how much I absolutely hate you?"

"You've made it clear." He put the pill in his pocket. "But you have to deal with me...if you want to find your father."

And out of nowhere, completely _nowhere_, she said: "And I care why?"

Crane's eyes darkened.

"Why do I care?" she asked, crossing her arms.

_I can't even remember his face. He wasn't even there. _

Her mother was dead. Dead and gone. And her father was alive. And it was right, and it would never be alright...but somethings just aren't _alright_, and never will be. And you just have to deal with it.

Her stomach sunk.

What have I done?

It's like...a fog had lifted.

What the HELL am I DOING HERE?

"What's that pill made of?" Caden asked out of no where.

"It's just an prescription medication...an addictive one."

"Bullshit." she stomped closer to him and reached into his pocket, pulling out the pill. She looked at it closely. It was obviously _not _prescription. It looked a bit like Ecstasy.

She whipped out the knife she used earlier, and pressed it against his throat."What is in this?" she demanded, holding the pill in front of his eye. "Tell me, or I'll _kill _you. You know I would."

Caden knew she didn't have the upper-hand here. Crane was smarter than, _and _had his fear toxin. She could tell he was formulating a plan...the gears were turning in his eyes.

"It's main ingredient is the_ Datura stramonium, _a plant commonly found in Mexico which is known delirium, an inability to separate reality from fantasy, and violent behavior. It also contains traces of_ Mandragora officinarum,_ which also causes delirium."

Caden stood back, baffled, breathing hard.

_I can't...I don't believe...all of this...I can't..._

A sudden hiss in the air, mixed with the smell of chlorine and flowers let her know exactly what was happening. She held her breath, but it got in.

She'd be absolutely insane.

When the gas cleared, she saw that Crane had on his mask, and was now Scarecrow. And Scarecrow saw no use for her now other then possibly fun (which, for him, is making someone scream in fear) and experiments.

_He'll drive me crazy with fear, and leave me on the side of the street. _

_It's over. My life is over._

Little feet. Little feet all over her. Tickling her. In her mouth. In her eyes.

Grabbing. Biting.

Flames licking her skin luxuriously, enjoying the taste of her flesh as it seared.

And endless darkness, an empty void, lit only by the fire that burned her.

And also water...and endless ocean, stretching out in ever which way, endless and boundless and deadly.

Sharks, grabbing, biting, ripping, tearing.

A thousand stingers. A hundred cuts with salt poured in them. Limbs jutted out of her skin.

An a giant demon, looking into her soul with her own eyes.

This is all there was. All there ever will be.

Nothing, nothing but the screams and pleas for mercy. Nothing but the tears.

Nothing. 

She woke up crying.

She was laying on the cafeteria floor, but the lights were off. It was dark. She lay on her side, curled into a ball.

And cried and trembled and whimpered.

Meanwhile, she felt his presence there, watching in quiet glee. She knew that this is how he got his kicks, that is what got him high, and she was only pleasing him by crying, but she couldn't stop it.

_I thought it would never end._

The memories of it flashed in her mind. Beatles in her mouth. Bees in her eyes. Her skin burned off, then dropped in the water to be eaten by sharks.

That couldn't have even been real. She felt the pain and the fear and it wasn't real.

Nothing can describe that. That...fear so strong that it just breaks you in two.

_I'm broken. He broke me. _

Still sobbing, she slowly sat up and looked at him. He looked at her, with that stupid mask on, and shouldn't see his eyes, but she could feel them, and she bet anything his eyes were the same color as that shark that ate her alive.

The memory of teeth in her flesh, of red water, of pain so strong her mind blacked it out for the sake of her sanity.

"You're a monster." she stammered, her body shaking.

"Aren't we all?" he said, standing up, taking off his mask. "You're one, too, you know. You can't hide it. Everyone tries to, but everyone's a monster in their own way. I say, embrace it."

"You're _sick. _What gives you the right to do this to anyone?" No human beings ever, _ever _should go through that. That is something beyond Earth, beyond Heaven and Hell, beyond the universe. That's something unnatural...that shouldn't exist.

He opened his mouth, making a soft _click _noise I just realized he did often, and sighed.

"Get up."

Her body still shaking, she attempted to get up, but fell a few times. Eventually, she managed it.

"Now. Take it." he held out the pill.

She sighed, and swallowed it.

"Open your mouth." he commanded. She did so.

She was afraid of him now. She didn't want to make him angry again.

"Lift up your tongue." She did as he asked. Satisfied, he smiled. "Go sleep, Caden. You need it." She nodded and started to walk away.

Just as she got to the door, he said, "And, Caden? Don't ever disobey me again. Or, next time...I won't cure you. I'll let you go crazy until your mind breaks and you inevitably die."

Without saying a word, she exited the room.

And coughed up the pill.

She smiled as she put in it her pocket. Regurgitating was a good skill to have.

_Fuck him. I'm leaving tonight._


	23. Chapter 23: Requiem

Chapter 23

Caden looked at the door in front of her, standing stonily with her hands clenched into fists at her side. She was _pissed._

It took her a few minutes to figure it all out, but it all made sense now.

When Crane grabbed her two months ago, he sedated her with a typical anesthetic laced with _Datura stramonium, _otherwise known as an Angel's Trumpet, a flower that can cause severe mental breakdowns and violent behavior. The "prescription pills" he used to keep her addicted and on a leash were probably cut with it too. That's why she felt the urge to fight, to kill when she first woke up strapped to that gurney, and why she enjoyed working for Crane for that small amount of time.

But for a day, she hadn't taken the pills. The stuff was out of her system now.

Caden wasn't sure what that meant about her. She wouldn't use the pills as an excuse; no matter what caused her to do so, she still killed and hurt many, many people, and that was unforgivable. But, hopefully...she wasn't the monster she thought she was.

Oh, God...the memory of breaking that man's arm, listening to him scream and _loving it, _absolutely _loving it..._it made her want to vomit.

_How could I? _

She thought she was stronger than that, stronger than anything Crane could do to her, but she wasn't. She was just a human, not special in the slightest, vulnerable to everything.

What she did was nonredeemable, and once she got away from Crane, she would gladly confess, go to jail for life where she couldn't ever hurt anyone again. She was unstable and crazy and a threat to everyone.

_Yes...prison sounds...nice compared to this. _

And suddenly, in the quiet of the dusty room, dark and cold and musty-smelling, she was at peace.

How long ago was it that she was at peace? It must have been when she was with Bruce.

That's the one thing she regretted. Letting him down. After everything that man did for her, she betrayed him just. Like. _That._ She didn't deserve him, and she never would.

And, though that thought made her throat clench and heart ache...she was OK with it.

_I'll get out. Go to the hospital, and make up some story about Crane capturing me and make sure I'm completely clean. Than...I'll send an e-mail to Bruce. And turn myself in. _

Those people she killed...some of them might have families and friends, wondering _why? Why? _She had once been left wondering the same thing, but it didn't stop her from inflicting that same torment on other people, and that made her dangerous.

_I'll tell them Bruce about Nightmare. See if he can do anything. She's just a kid, after all. _

Is this what enlightenment feels like? Freedom? Lack of anger, of hate, of fear? Complete serenity? She was in bliss, pure bliss. She was...happy, because this part of her life would be over. She wouldn't be allowed to run around and hurt anyone every again. She'd be locked in a prison where she would live the rest of her days in peace, knowing that not a single person would be harmed by her hand..

And Jill...she always wondered about Jill. Caden assumed she was dead. In fact, she didn't want to find her. She wanted to keep the memory of them eating pizza and watching a movie, Jill giggling, her blonde hair gently falling around her, graceful fingers covering her mouth, her blue eyes alight.

That's Jill, goodness and happiness and sweetness. Not whatever Caden would find now...a decomposed body in a gutter. In a way, Jill's still alive.

_And with me. _

Caden took a deep breath, and turned the handle. Opened the door. Walked out.

It was that easy.

She left all of her weapons in the room. The only thing she had was Bruce's ring, not on her finger but in her pocket. She'd swing by Wayne Towers, ring, and put the ring on the ground for Alfred to pick up.

She'd never see Bruce again. And that was good. She wanted him to move on.

Walking down the dark but sporadically lit hallway, she found a strange sense of beauty. The walls were dirty and grimy, but some of the streetlamps breached the filth. The tile floor was dingy and lost it's shine, but it was still hard as rock. It was calm and silent except for her feet on the floor.

Just down this hallway and out the door. It's not going to be that easy. Something's going to happen.

She arrived at the door out.

No way.

She walked towards it.

"I'm afraid that if you insist on leaving," a voice snaked around her ears and into her brain. She cursed and turned around. "I can't let you live."

"Damn it, Crane." she growled. "Couldn't just let me go, could you?"

"We both know I can't let you do that." he was leaning against the wall, hiding the shadows. He crept out of his hiding spot, and walked into the light. A passing car illuminated him, casting shadows under his eyes.

People don't realize that fear doesn't come from an object...it comes from being powerless against that object. Crane is the demon of powerlessness; he takes away your control, your strength, and leaves you a blubbering, crying mess on the floor, weak and fragile. He's not even human anymore. He's a monster.

_I want to kill him. _

The thought came without anger or even will. Caden just wanted him dead. He didn't deserve to be alive.

"Look, if you're afraid I'll reveal your little hiding spot, keep in mind that you're _much _smarter than me. You could outsmart me so easily. Why are you so worried?" Caden crossed her arms, glaring at him.

"Because Bruce Wayne will want to know what happened to his lovely fiancee...and that's when the world pays attention; when the rich have their little perfect worlds rocked."

"What do you think Wayne can do to you? Or better yet, why don't you just kill him?" If he tried, Caden may not be able to restrain herself.

All that gushy BS before about not wanted to get locked up in prison because she won't 'hurt anyone else'?

Fuck that.

"Why don't I just kill you?" he tilted his head to the side, walking closer.

"You can certainly try." she threatened.

"I could've killed you earlier, you know...I could've slit your throat while you screamed on the floor."

"That's not your style." Her senses came alive, and realized she had no weapons. _Stupid! _

"I'm not like the Joker, Caden. I'm not doing this to send a message to anyone. I don't have a style. I could and should kill you."

She froze when she saw the glint of a knife in his hand.

Tears clouded her eyes. "Please do it." she whimpered. "I'm a _monster_, Crane. I don't deserve to live. _Please _do it."

That sounds...nice, actually. A piece of filth like her cleaned from the face of the world forever. The shit she's done...she didn't deserve to live anymore than he did.

And, to her surprise, he actually did he. He shoved the knife in her stomach.

She sobbed.

Oh, God, the _pain._ Like she was being torn apart. Everything hurt.

_Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow oooooooooow..._

Crane wouldn't make it quick.

_oh god please make it stop..._

She felt her blood run down her stomach and drip on the floor. She felt the knife against her _organs._

He twisted the blade, and Caden screamed. Her fingers clamped down on Crane's shoulder, digging her nails into his flesh.

He ripped the blade back, causing more damage.

Of course he wouldn't make it slow. He enjoys fear too much.

As he pulled away, Caden fell backwards. As she stumbled, he tried to jab at her throat. She ducked, and it simply sliced her head. Blood immediately filled her vision, and she tasted it in her mouth.

_I don't want to die. _

_Aren't you just an emotional rollarcoaster? Make up your fucking mind already! _

_I'm surviving, and I'm **not **going to jail. I'm going to kill Crane, apologize to Bruce, and put this all behind me. _

_Impossible...but I should still try. _

Tears and blood clouding her vision, she stood and ran out the door. Crane pursued.

Just as she got out the door, she heard gun shots. Crane wouldn't dare step out of his hiding place; he'd shoot her to death from inside, so no one would see him.

Good thing he's a horrible shot.

Caden darted from side to side as she ran. The pain was intense and horrible but, damn it, she was surviving.

Gotta get to a hospital.

She still heard Crane firing. She cursed and ran as fast as her body would let her. She ran until the school was gone, and all that was left was the pain.

She was going to die.

Loving Mom and growing up. Learning to play the clarinet. Struggling to get decent grades. Struggling, always struggling. Her entire life.

Gone. Nothing. Meaningless.

It would be gone in a matter of minutes.

She didn't want to lose that. She hasn't struggled her entire life to die now.

_I really should turn myself in though. Bruce won't take me back. I'm...different now. _

_OK, I'll get to the hospital, and, if I live, turn myself in. Not before I give the ring back, though. _

_But here's the problem...I'm going to bleed out, probably die within the hour. You're in the Narrows. No one's going to stop to help you. _

"Hey...are you OK?" a voice asked from behind me.

Her eyes spun as she turned around. She was on the sidewalk by a main road...and there was someone asking her if she was OK.

_Whoa. _

"N-no..." she stammered. It was...

_Holy shit, a cop. _

"Jeez, what happened?" He was a nice looking guy. Caden trusted him. Besides...no evidence of what she's done yet.

This was a miracle.

"I got stabbed..."

"Well I can see that! Hold on." he reached into his pocket and pulled out a walky-talky. Caden was so out of it she didn't pay attention to what he said. The world was spinning and she felt like she was going to throw up.

The pain constantly throbbed, unrelenting. She was afraid to touch it. It felt like her guts were going to fall out. She stood hunched over, clutching the area around it, occasionally wiping blood from her forehead.

"Who did this to you?"

"J-j-j-Johnathan Crane." Caden would regret saying his name, but oh fuckin well. She was dying here. The policeman's eyes widened.

"Do you live around here?" he asked.

"No." she said before she could think. She did live with Bruce...did. She had lived in the Narrows for two months.

"Well, just relax, help's on the way." He put her around across his shoulders and slowly lowered her to the ground. He lifted up her shirt to reveal the full extent of the wound. He bit his lip. "You'll be alright. Just relax."

"And focus on not dying?" she choked out.

"Yeah, that's a good thing to do." he chuckled slightly. "I'm sorry." he said as he ripped a piece of cloth from her shirt and pressed down on the wound with it. She hissed, then steeled herself.

Time passed slowly and quickly. The world was a blur as the ambulance came. She struggled to stay conscious.

All she remembered from the experience was "You'll be alright. Just relax."


	24. Chapter 24: Moonlight Sonata

Chapter 24

Bright lights upon awakening was something Caden knew all-too-well.

Her mind slowly pulled itself out of a groggy mess as one conclusion led to another.

Bright, florescent lights. Smell of sterility. A hospital.

Uncomfortable bed. Definitely a hospital.

A dull pain in her stomach. A bandage.

_That's right. I was stabbed. _

Her eyes opened, and she smiled.

She lived.

She sat up, propping herself on her elbows. A young doctor was in the room...obviously just out of med school. He was scribbling something down on a clipboard, but looked up at her behind glasses and grinned.

"Give it to me straight," Caden said. "How screwed up was I?"

"You were in a pretty bad condition, but you'll be alright." he explained.

"What happened exactly?"

"Doctor jargon or English?" he raised an eyebrow.

"English would be nice."

"You got stabbed right in your small intestine. There's a risk for infection, but thankfully it's small. Laceration on your head...and," he gave a short, nervous laugh. "We found the oddest thing in your blood. Traces of, what we've discovered is, _Datura stramonium. _You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" He went from slightly nervous to deadly serious.

"It's...kind of a long story." she whispered.

"I see. Well, there's someone here to speak to you." the doctor left the room, and she finally got a chance to observe her surroundings.

A typical hospital room; small, with a TV mounted in the upper corner, a window, and a few chairs for family members. _If I had any. _

The door opened, and in walked some guy.

It took Caden a second, but she recognized him as the cop that saved her life. He looked to be in his early 30s, with a buzz cut and a friendly smile. He walked around and sat in one of the chairs. Caden watched him closely.

"Before you ask any questions," Caden started. "What day is it?"

"May 17th. You were brought in last night."

"Thank you. Not for telling me what day it is," she laughed. "For saving my life." He blushed, and shrugged.

"I couldn't just leave you there. I've seen enough innocent people killed." He took a deep breath. "I'm George, by the way. And, uh...my dad was a cop, too. I sort of followed in his footsteps. He retired a while ago, but when I joined the force, he told me a story about a woman who was killed while her daughter watched." he stopped, thought for a moment. He was struggling to put words together. "And, he told me, 'son, this sort of thing happens a lot. And it absolutely ruins a person's life. Don't ever let your eye turn blind to the pain of others, because every little thing you _don't _do might completely destroy a person.' Or something like that." he exhaled loudly, shook his head. "They looked for the killers for a while, but...eventually, they had to stop the 'Smithart case.'"

Caden curled into a ball, minding the IV in her hand and the bandage on her stomach. All the memories, all the pain came rushing back to her. "Small world, huh?" she whispered.

"I am so sorry." he stood and walked to the side of her bed.

"It's not your fault."

"I found this in your pocket." He held out his hand. Caden glanced over.

Bruce's ring.

"I...didn't know what the hospital would do with it, so...I hope you're not offended."

"Thank you." without looking at him, she picked it up, and brought it close to her eyes. A white gold ring in the shape of a snake eating it's tail, with two large sapphires for eyes.

_I don't deserve this. I'll never deserve this. _

"Now, I'm sorry to pile all this on top of you, but...I really need to ask you some questions." George sighed.

"Hit me."

Caden laid back in her bed, looking up at the ceiling, pondering.

George thought that she had been captured by Scarecrow as she walked down the street, and that he sedated her and injected the Angel Trumpet mixture into her blood while she was out of it. When they returned to his hide out, which she said she couldn't remember, he chained her to a gurney and experimented on her with his fear toxin. Meanwhile, the Angel Trumpet serum made her think that she was helping Crane, and should stay with him, and so she did for a month until one day, Crane didn't get the serum in her fast enough, her mind cleared, and she escaped, but not before he violently attacked her in an attempt to kill her so she doesn't spread his secrets. However, just before she pulled free of him, he injected her with something that made her forget a lot of information.

_That's not what fucking happened, he turned you into his own mercenary and made you kill for him, made you like it. He twisted you until you derived sexual pleasure from breaking a man's arm, and you know fucking well where he is, but you're too chicken-shit to tell because you're sure he'll come after you and kill you. Ha! Pathetic. You're a waste of human life. _

She sighed. The doctor came in.

"Well, I don't know what happened to you, but you're lucky you're not dead." the doctor said. "That amount of _datura stramonium _should've killed you. But somehow, you survived."

"I guess I've got you to thank, Doc." Caden smiled.

"Just doing my job." he shrugged. "I won't beat around the bush. It'll take about a year for you to fully recover, but you'll be out in a week and a half. We just have to make sure there's no infection, no internal bleeding, though it looks pretty good. You know...for intestines." They laughed for a second. Just a second. "We've got your records and everything, and we've alerted the police that you've been found. You were missing for a little over two months. I'm glad you're OK." he smiled. "I've got surgery in a few minutes...is there anything I should know about? Pain? Dizziness? Anything?"

"Nope. I'm good. Have fun in surgery." she waved him away, and out he went.

And she was left with herself. And that person is the worst of them all.

Surprisingly, during her hospital visit, Bruce never showed. Caden was thankful. It gave her time to think about what she should say, if she should anything.

On one hand, he needed to know how absolutely sorry she was. On the other hand, she didn't want him to think she was asking for his forgiveness; she would never deserve it, and nothing she could ever do would make up for it. However, he could not care about her anymore in the slightest (which made her a little sad, but it was the preferable option) and she could be wasting her time thinking about how much she hurt him. She might be able to drop the ring by and leave without so much as a tear.

That was what she hoped for...for him to not even care, and for whatever they had to be a distant memory. She loved him, but...  
>He was Batman. She was a criminal.<p>

Life sucks. Life fuckin' sucks, and just have to deal with it.

No tears. Not one. She'll be strong, when the time comes. And she'll end it.

And she'll be...OK.


End file.
